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“ don’t you move, NED, FOR YOL K LIFE I AM HERE.” 

Redskins and Colonists. ) 



/ 


REDSKINS AND 
COLONISTS 

Or, A Boy 5 Adventures in the 
Early Days of Virginia 


BY 

G. A. HENTY 

AUTHOR OF “ WITH CLIVE IN INDIA,” “ WITH WOLFE IN CANADA.” 
“BY England’s aid,” “in the reign of terror,” 

“THE dragon and THE RAVEN,” ETC. 


BURTON AND SON 
THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 
THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


NEW YORK 

STITT PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1905 



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COPYRIGHT, 1905 
BY 

STITT PUBLISHING COMPANY 


INTRODUCTION 


“ Redskins and Colonists ” relates the partic- 
ulars of a period of Colonial times of absorbing 
interest to all. 

At the time of the opening of this tale the colony 
of Virginia was still struggling for existence. 
Time and again it had been reduced by the Indians, 
until only a handful of the original settlers re- 
mained. Lord Delaware had added to the number, 
and then came others, until, in 1622, the colony took 
on a more prosperous look. Sir Francis Wyatt 
succeeded Yeardley as governor, and he instructed 
the planters to cultivate the good-will of the red 
men. 

Had that great Indian, Powhatan, still been alive, 
the good-will of the red men might have been 
gained. But Powhatan was dead, and his place 
was occupied by Opechancanough, a crafty and 
cruel warrior, who lost no time in arranging a plan 
for the wholesale slaughter of the whites. The 
Indians were now dexterous with firearms, and hav- 
ing been treated with contempt by the English, they 
laid their plans adroitly, and on March 22, 1622, 

iii 


IV 


INTRODUCTION 


they fell upon every settlement. Men, women, and 
even babes in their mothers’ arms, were massacred 
without mercy; and had it not been for one half- 
civilized red man who gave the plot away in part if 
not in whole, the slaughter would have been prac- 
tically universal. 

By this slaughter upward of three hundred and 
fifty persons lost their lives, and at once a war was 
instituted against the Indians, lasting many years. 
The horrors and privations of this contest can 
scarcely be believed in these days, when wars with 
red men have become entirely a thing of the past. 
Whole families were killed off, and in some cases 
complete settlements were razed, so that, later, 
scarcely a trace of them was to be found! But at 
last the warfare ceased, and then prosperity once 
more shone upon the hardy pioneers who had risked 
their all to make the United States what they have 
since become. 


CONTENTS 


Burton and Son 

The Ranch in the Valley 

The Sole Survivors . 


I 

1 

1 

t 


i 

■\ 


BURTON AND SON 


CHAPTER I 

On the ist of March, 1851, two men were stand- 
ing by the side of a bark that presented the scene of 
bustle and confusion that distinguishes a craft un- 
loading and within a day or two of putting to sea. 

She is a good-looking craft,” said one. 
‘‘ Though not a sailor, I have wandered about long 
enough to form an opinion of a ship when I see one. 
She is certainly handsome, and I should say that she 
was fast.” 

Yes, the Dolphin is a stout ship,” the other said. 

I have had her twelve years now, and she has al- 
ways done well by me, and has earned me a good 
many thousand pounds since the day I bought her. 
I don’t know that any one out of the twelve I own 
has done better service or has met with fewer mis- 
adventures. I chose her for that reason as Rob^ 
ert’s first command. As you know, I have no idea 
of his sticking to the sea, fond of it though he may 
be. But I thought that it were as well for him to 
learn the business, and to work his way up till he 


2 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


could take the command of one of my vessels and sail 
her for a few years. In the first place, he was rather 
disposed to be dreamy as a boy, and I was sure that 
eight or ten years at sea would brighten him up and 
make a man of him. In the next place, it is always 
better that an owner should have a thorough prac- 
tical knowledge of ships and their requirements. 
He is thus able to see for himself that they are in all 
respects well found when they start. Then he can 
check the bills captains run up for repairs and stores 
during their voyages, and can see that he is not im- 
posed upon. My father sent me to sea as a boy, and 
I believe that no small portion of the success that I 
have achieved is due to the knowledge that I then 
gained.’' 

‘‘ An excellent idea,” the other said. I wish 
that, instead of kicking over the traces and going 
out to seek my fortune on my own account, I had 
been sent to sea too, instead of being put in Parker’s 
office. I know that his idea was that when the time 
came I should look after the details of the business 
in the counting house, and that he should take the 
practical side of the shipping.” 

“ It would have been better so, William ; but you 
see that you were mistaken in supposing that he 
intended you to remain long with the Parkers. Of 
course, I was away at sea when you ran away, and 
when I returned he told me that he had intended 


BURTON AND SON 


3 


you should go out as supercargo for, at any rate, a 
few voyages ; so that, while I learned all about the 
rigging and fitting of a ship, you would have prac- 
tical experience in the trading part of the business. 
Unfortunately, he was one of the old type, and didn't 
consider it necessary to inform us of his intentions, 
but when the time came, simply laid his orders upon 
us ; which, in my opinion, was a great mistake, and 
fathers in our days are for the most part wiser. At 
any rate, I have gone the other way to work. I ex- 
plained to Robert my motive for wishing him to take 
to the sea for a time ; and though at first he had not, 
like most boys, any very strong wish to go to sea, he 
at once acknowledged that he could see that it would 
be an advantage that he should do so, and after a 
voyage or two took to it heart and soul." 

The speaker was Mr. John Burton, who had been 
until two years before the sole owner of his business, 
although it had been settled that Robert should 
shortly become a member of the firm. At that time, 
however, his brother William, whom he had not seen 
or heard of since the latter had, at the age of sixteen, 
run away from home some thirty years before, re- 
turned to England, and he at once took him to his 
home. Although two years his junior, William 
looked the elder of the two. John, after spending, a 
few years at sea, had settled down as junior partner 
in the firm of Burton and Son, of which he became 


4 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


the sole representative at his father’s death some 
fifteen years later. 

The business had flourished under his charge. 
His ships were always well found and well manned. 
He maintained that it was cheaper to lay out a sum 
sufficient to make them seaworthy in all respects than 
to insure them. 

“ A man with but two or three ships must,” he 
argued, “ be insured. He cannot risk the accidents 
of the sea ; but with a fleet of twelve vessels it pays 
him to insure himself. Certainly it has been so in 
my case. I have never lost a ship since I gave up 
insuring them at my father’s death. I am more par- 
ticular than most men in seeing that their equipment 
is as perfect as can be; and it has paid me well, and 
given me the satisfaction of knowing that, except 
when from time to time men have been washed over- 
board in a storm or killed by falling from aloft, I can 
say that no single life has ever been lost from causes 
within my control among the men who had served 
in my ships. I have kept an exact account of the 
saving I have made by not insuring, and it has been 
sufficient to enable me to sell a ship whenever she be- 
came in the slightest degree unseaworthy, for what- 
ever price she would fetch, and to replace her by a 
thoroughly good and sound one.” 

John Burton was a widower, and he invited his 
brother to make his home with him. The latter had 


BURTON AND SON 


5 


many tales to tell of the life he had led since he left 
London as a boy ; and, according to his own account, 
misfortune had often dogged his path. There were, 
however, many more stories of his career that he 
took good care not to relate. He had, indeed, led a 
wild and reckless life. He had been for years a 
beachcomber in the South Sea Islands and a gold- 
digger in California. He had been a smuggler, and 
had been engaged in operations that the law would 
not have distinguished from piracy. He had made 
money in heaps, and had thrown or gambled it away 
as quickly as he made it. When he sailed for Eng- 
land it was with no fixed intention of staying there. 
He had a few hundred pounds to spend, and he 
thought that he would look round and see whether 
his brother was alive and how he was prospering. 

He was still a bachelor ; possibly there was some- 
thing to be done; at any rate, it was worth going 
home for, and of late he had begun to feel that he 
was not the man he had been, and that he was tired 
of the life that he had so long been leading. On 
arriving in England he had, before calling upon his 
brother, made some inquiries at the docks and ware- 
houses, and found that his brother was a widower 
with one son, that he owned twelve ships, and was in 
all ways a successful man. He learned a good deal 
about his private character, and posted himself 
where he could get a good view of him as he came 


6 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


out from his office. Once or twice he followed him 
down to the docks, watched him talking with his 
captains, and arrived at the conclusion that it was 
well worth staying for a time in England. Then he 
went to a tailor’s and ordered a suit of quiet clothes, 
and had his hair carefully cut, his mustache and 
beard shaved, and his whiskers trimmed, in accord- 
ance with the style prevalent among business men in 
the City. This done, he wrote a carefully worded 
letter from the quiet hotel, ‘‘ The Hummums,” in 
Covent Garden, where he was staying: 

My dear brother John : — As you have not 
seen nor heard of me for some thirty years, you 
have doubtless almost forgotten my existence. Had 
I been getting on very badly I should probably have 
returned like a bad penny. Had I done well I should 
certainly have written to our father, if only to show 
that, although I could not stand the life in the count- 
ing house, I had at least some business capacity in 
me. I have, however, had my ups and downs — 
making money sometimes, but not enough to enable 
me to write and say that I was doing well; more 
often losing it, but not driven to such sore straits 
as would have compelled me to own that I had done 
wrong in striking out a course for myself. How- 
ever, I have returned, and may stay in England a 
few weeks or a few months. I am not intending to 


BURTON AND SON 


7 


thrust myself upon you. I have no right to do so. 
I went out from the family of my own accord, and 
thereby forfeited any right to family afYection. I 
do not mind now admitting that I did wrong, though 
I am sure that I should do the same again were I 
similarly placed. However, I have been heavily 
punished for what was no doubt an act of folly. I 
should, however, be very glad to see you if you 
would be pleased to see me. Should you not care 
about having one whom men doubtless consider as a 
ne’er-do-well call upon you, I shall have no right to 
complain. I shall send this down by hand. If you 
are not in, the messenger will leave it for you. If 
you are in, and he brings me back your message 
that there is no answer, I shall understand that you 
do not wish to renew the ties that I severed long 
ago. — Your brother, William.” 

An hour later a cab drove up to the door, and a 
gentleman got out hastily and inquired of the waiter 
for Mr. William Burton, and was shown up to a 
private room that William had engaged for the 
morning. The waiter opened the door and an- 
nounced Mr. John Burton.” William gave an ex- 
clamation of pleasure as he rose from his chair. 
For half a minute the two men stood looking at each 
other without speaking. 

This is kind of you indeed, John,” William said. 


8 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


‘‘ I think I should have known you. You were 
eighteen, you see, and of course in my eyes you were 
almost a man. I recognize you rather by your eyes 
than anything else. I am sure that you cannot rec- 
ognize me. I was )7’our junior; and besides, while 
your life has run easily and smoothly, mine has been 
a hard one, and knocking about for thirty years in 
the neighborhood of the tropics takes a lot out of a 
man. I feel, and I am sure that I look, your senior.’’ 

I certainly should not have known you, brother,” 
John said. “ You have grown out of all recogni- 
tion ; and indeed, being a man of business, and be- 
fore I can quite accept you as my brother, I must ask 
you a few questions so as to assure myself of your 
identity. Let me think. In the first place, where 
did you go to school ? ” 

“ To old Trotter’s at Clapham,” the other said 
readily. ‘‘ You were in the second class when I 
went there, and the very day after I went you licked 
Jenson for bullying me.” 

‘‘ Quite right,” the other replied, more warmly 
than he had before spoken. “ Can you tell me any 
special incident at school that I shall be likely to 
remember? ” 

‘‘ Yes. I don’t suppose that you have forgotten 
how I went on to the ice of one of the ponds on the 
common before it was safe, and went through, and 
how you lay down and crawled out till you were near 


BURTON AND SON 


9 


enough to me to throw me your jacket, and you held 
on by the sleeve and I to the jacket till one of the 
fellows — Sykes it was, I think — ran back to the 
school and brought a rope/’ 

“ That will do, William. Now let us shake hands. 
I am heartily glad to see you home. I have often 
wondered what had become of you, and wished that 
you were back again. I have been married since 
then, and lost my wife years ago. I have one boy ; 
. he has been to sea (as I was) for some six years, and 
is now first mate on board one of my ships, so I have 
been a lonely man. I won’t ask you any questions 
now as to what you have been doing. Of course, it 
will be a long story, and I must get back to business. 
Get your things packed up. I will call for you at 
six o’clock and drive you down to my place. I live 
at Old Brompton. It is a quiet little place, but I 
took it when first married, and did not care to move 
into our father’s house at Bryanston Square at his 
death. No; nonsense! I will take no refusal. Get 
everything ready by six sharp.” 

Then, shaking hands heartily with his brother, 
John Burton hurried away. William’s two port- 
manteaus were down in the hall, and he was stand- 
ing at the door punctual to a moment, when his 
brother drove up in a dogcart, just as the clock in 
the market was striking the hour. 

‘‘ You are as punctual as our father was, John,” 


10 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


William said as the groom jumped down and low- 
ered the back of the dogcart, while the porter 
brought out the luggage. 

“ Yes ; he was the same to the end, William. He 
always entered the office at the stroke of nine, and 
woe be to anyone who arrived even a minute later. 
I don’t know that I am quite as punctual as he was, 
but I don’t think there is much difference.” 

So William Burton was installed at his brother’s. 
He told John as much as seemed good to him of his 
trading transactions and adventures, with such varia- 
tions from the truth as seemed advisable. At the 
end of a fortnight he proposed going into lodgings. 

I have brought enough home with me to live 
comfortably for six months at home, to pay my pas- 
sage out, and to make a fresh start.” 

“ That is all very well, William, but it does not 
seem to me that the fresh starts that you have made, 
and which seem to have been numerous, have had 
much results. However, that is your affair; but 
it is my affair that you shall not leave here and go 
into lodgings. It is a very great pleasure to me to 
have you here. I quite look forward to coming 
home and having someone to talk to in the evening.” 

“ Well, brother, you see, after such a life as I 
have led I cannot help finding it dull here during 
the day. I should be content if I could find some- 
thing to do. I do not mean in the money-making 


BURTON AND SON 


II 


way, but to give one employment. I was thinking 
of it yesterday, and it struck me that if you would 
but make me useful I should be as happy as a prince. 
I am, as you know, thoroughly at home with ships 
and everything connected with them. You are con- 
stantly having to run down to the docks. Now, 
couldn’t you let me take some of that off your hands ? 
I could bring you up news as to anything wanted, 
let you know exactly how things are going on, take 
your orders down to the captains, and things of that 
sort. It would be a real pleasure to me, and I should 
not find time hang on my hands and be seized with a 
fit of restlessness and go suddenly off again.” 

‘‘ You really mean that, William? ” 

“ I do, John.” 

“ Then so let it be. It will certainly save me a 
great deal of trouble, and I may say annoyance, for 
sometimes one loses business through being out when 
someone comes in in a hurry to ask for a quotation 
for freight or whether I can take a passenger or 
two. Then one has one’s skipper often running up 
to ask about some trifle, and something goes wrong 
in his absence. I think it would be an excellent 
arrangement for us both. I am sure that you must 
find it desperately dull, for one cannot be walking 
about the streets all day.” 

And so it was settled to the satisfaction of both. 
William made himself useful. His brother drove 


12 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

him up to the office every morning. Half an hour 
would be spent in opening the letters. William 
would then go off to the docks, returning at lunch- 
time with precise information how everything was 
going on — the progress the riggers were making, or 
the lading or unlading of the cargo — and with any 
matters on which the skipper required instructions. 
He then returned again, and was certain to present 
himself at the office at the very moment that the dog- 
cart drew up to take them home. He made him- 
self so useful that his brother began to wonder how 
he had ever got on without so valuable an assistant. 
The relief to him was indeed great. He was able 
to get through his work in the office comfortably and 
easily, and only paid an occasional visit to the docks. 


CHAPTER II 


William Burton did not stay after the first two 
months at his brother's house. I will take a lodg- 
ing near," he said, and drop in often, John ; but 
I have so long been a Bohemian that I like to go 
where I wish of my own free will, and to drop into 
a theater occasionally. After being thirty years 
alone, one cannot expect to be able to settle down into 
altogether domestic ways immediately." 

This time John offered no opposition. He 
thought his brother’s wish was but reasonable ; and 
he himself felt that an evening alone by himself with 
his books would be pleasant, and that when he had 
once heard all his brother’s stories he should find it 
more dull sitting alone with him evening after even- 
ing, trying to keep up a conversation, than being by 
himself. Another thing was that William was an 
inveterate smoker, while he himself had given up the 
practice altogether when he left the sea, and had 
now a positive objection to the smell of tobacco. 

Robert returned for the third time from a voyage 
a year after his uncle’s arrival, and his father then 
broached to him the idea he had formed of taking 
William into the firm. 


13 


14 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


‘‘ I should not like to do it without consulting you, 
Robert. I have more reasons than one for wishing 
it. In the first place, it is hard on him that I should 
have inherited my father’s business and property, 
while his name was not so much as mentioned in the 
will. My father never forgave his running away, 
and would never allow his name to be as much as 
mentioned ; and as years went on and he never heard 
from him, he was, I believe, convinced that William 
was dead. Of course, had he remained here he 
would have shared with me in the business and prop- 
erty. I don’t say that he wasn’t wrong to run away, 
but I think that he has paid much heavier for it than 
he deserves. He tells me that, knowing his father 
as he did, he felt sure that he would not forgive him, 
but that he had always intended to write if he were 
in a position to do so, without his father being able 
to think that he had only written because he wanted 
a share of his money. So you see, Robert, ever 
since he has been home it has been on my mind that 
as my brother he ought to have some share of his 
father’s property, and not be obliged to go out again 
at his age to try to make a fortune. In the next 
place, he is my brother, and during the time that we 
have been together I have come to have a real affec- 
tion for him, and it has been very pleasant for me 
to have him with me. Lastly, I am not, I suppose, 
so active and energetic as I was twenty years ago. 


BURTON AND SON 15 

and it has been a great relief to have the dock v/ork 
taken so largely off my hands. I am able to trust 
him entirely, which I should never do a stranger. 
He is punctual, and most painstaking and intelligent. 
In many ways he has saved me money, and alto- 
gether he has become more than my right hand as far 
as that business goes. I should propose to offer 
him a fourth share in the business. I shall at the 
same time take you into partnership and give you 
a fourth share. You will, of course, eventually come 
into my share also. As a provision against any pos- 
sible disagreement there might be between you, or 
your feeling that his greater age gave him an author- 
ity in the business out of proportion to the com- 
paratively small share that he had in it, I should 
insert a clause in a deed of partnership saying that, 
at any time after you had come into possession of 
my share of the business, you might purchase his in- 
terest in it for the sum of ten thousand pounds — 
which, I may tell you, is about a third of the sum I 
laid by as savings. What do you think of that, 
lad?’’ 

“ I don’t know that I should quite have liked it if 
it had not been for the last clause. As you spoke 
it certainly did rush across my mind that I should 
scarcely be able to manage things as I might wish 
with a partner so much older than myself. Your 
suggestion, however, entirely does away with that 


i6 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


difficulty, and I quite agree in all that you say. I 
can go to sea for another five or six years at any rate, 
and I shall be very glad to think of your having a 
brother with you ; and I am glad, too, that some of 
the strain of your work shall be taken off your hands. 
It is but just that he' should benefit in some way from 
his father’s fortune. Certainly, as long as you are 
at the head of the business there is no chance of any 
unpleasantness occurring.” 

“ You don’t quite like your uncle, Robert? ” 

“ No, sir, I don’t know that I do. I certainly have 
no reason for disliking him, but I don’t think that 
I understand him.” 

“In what way, Robert ? ” 

“ Well, it does not seem natural that a man who 
has been knocking about in Australia and among the 
Islands for thirty years should suddenly settle down 
into such a life as he is leading now. You see, I 
have twice been out to those parts, and I know some- 
thing about the wild, reckless life the smaller traders 
and what we call beachcombers live there. I sup- 
pose as a whole they are as unmitigated a body of 
scoundrels as are to be found anywhere’ on the globe. 
Of course, there may be exceptions, and uncle may 
have been one of them. Still, I own that at present I 
have not seen enough of him to be able to form an 
opinion either way. But you have had vastly 
greater opportunities, and if you feel that you can 


BURTON AND SON 


17 


trust him entirely it is quite sufficient for me. Still, 
if it had not been for that clause in the partnership 
which would empower me to buy him out, I would 
much rather that, instead of his having a fourth in 
the business, he should take three of the twelve ships 
for himself, with, of course, a sufficient amount of 
capital to enable him to work them properly. How- 
ever, as I have said, that clause would remove all the 
difficulty, as I hope that it will be very many years 
before the contingency can arrive. It may well be 
that before then I shall have worked long enough 
with him to come round completely to your opinion 
of him.^’ 

“ I will think the matter over, Robert, and we will 
talk about it again before you sail.” 

Three days later the conversation was resumed. 

“ I think there is a good deal in what you said, 
Robert. It has in no way altered my opinion of 
William, but I can understand that you as a young 
man, with no special reason for liking an uncle whom 
you have never seen until he came here, should see 
it in the light that you do. I have therefore settled 
that the deed of partnership shall specify that it is 
to remain in force only during my lifetime, and that 
at the end of that time it shall end and determine. 
It shall specify that a first-rate firm of accountants, 
whom I shall name, shall then value the business, 
ships, etc., and that he shall be paid one-fourth of 


i8 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


the sum decided upon. You will, of course, have the 
option of paying it from the sum that I shall leave 
you, or of selling some of the ships and reducing the 
business ; but I should certainly advise you to do the 
former.” 

“ Certainly, father; I think that that would be an 
excellent plan, and would suit him as well as myself. 
You are not fifty yet, and will, I hope, be the head 
of the firm for the next thirty years at least. He is 
a little younger than you are, but he looks ten years 
older; and certainly, from the life that he has led, 
he is not likely to survive you. But even if he did, 
he would be an old man, and would, I should think, 
be very glad indeed to take his share of the business 
in money.” 

And so it was arranged. William Burton ex- 
pressed a lively gratitude when his brother told him 
of the proposed arrangement. 

‘‘ Pooh, pooh ! ” the latter said. “ You ought to 
have had a share of your father’s money, and the 
portion that I now propose is really not worth as 
much or more than the hatf-share that you would 
have had had you not fallen out with him ; so that I 
am really only righting a wrong, and I shall feel 
much more comfortable now that the matter is 
settled. This is the draft of the partnership that I 
have drawn up. As you will see on reading it 
through, it holds good only during my lifetime, and 


BURTON AND SON 


19 


at my death the value of the business and ships will 
be estimated by a firm of accountants that I have 
named, and you will be paid your fourth in cash. 
This will probably suit you better than remaining in 
the business; and, indeed, I feel that though, as my 
junior, your position as junior partner would have 
no unpleasantness, it might be otherwise were my 
son to be the head and principal partner and you, a 
much older man, his junior. The name of the firm 
will be changed to that of John, Robert, and William 
Burton.” 

The deed of partnership was duly signed, and 
Robert sailed away again on the last voyage that he 
would take as first mate, and which occupied some 
eight or nine months. On his return the Dolphin 
had been bought to replace one of the fleet that had 
seen its best days, and Robert was appointed her 
commander. 

He was now twenty-three. It had been intended ‘ 
that he should, when he reached the age of twenty- 
five, give up the sea and join his father; but that 
arrangement had been broken off a few days before 
the date of sailing, when he had said, “ I know that 
is what we agreed, father, but now that you have 
Uncle William to help 5^ou I don’t see that we need 
stick to it. I like the life immensely, and shall like 
it still more now that I am captain;. and I don’t see 
that there is work for three of us here, so we cart 


20 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


leave the question of my giving up the sea alone for 
the present.” 

“ Just as you like, lad. Certainly we need not 
talk about it now. I should like to have you married 
and settled down near me.” 

“ That too can wait, father,” Robert laughed. 
“ At present I have no inclinations that way. You 
see, we don’t often carry passengers, and as I am 
.xcver at home for more than a fortnight or three 
weeks at a time, I have not had much chance of fall- 
ing in love.” 

The changed position of William Burton had made 
but little difference in the work of the firm. He had 
naturally a freer hand in all matters connected with 
the ships; but as John had laid it down that there 
was to be no change whatever in the system — that 
all purchases of stores and necessaries should be 
made from the firms that always supplied them, and 
that in the case of any difference between his brother 
and a captain as to the necessity for new sails or 
cordage the matter should be at once referred to 
him — things went on smoothly. William had now 
taken a small house a quarter of a mile from his 
brother’s, and regularly rode with him to the office, 
and thence went to the docks. 

He had now given up returning to lunch, as there 
was no occasion to refer constantly to John. Some- 
times he came in at half-past four or five to have a 


BURTON AND SON 


21 


talk with him, but as a rule he only did this on the 
two days in the week when he dined and spent the 
evening with him. There was, of course, no occa- 
sion for him to spend the whole day at the docks; 
and, indeed, he was seldom there for more than an 
hour. After that he went to a room he had taken in 
Aldgate. There he changed his clothes, and would 
scarce have been recognized when he went out again 
in an attire more suited to the West End than to the 
City. When there were horse-races on within a 
short run of London, he would drive to the station 
and go down and spend the day there. It was not 
long before he picked up a number of acquaintances 
among betting-men and adventurers on the turf. 

If there were no races on he would spend much of 
his time at some billiard-rooms ; and it was not long 
before he joined a sporting club of a third-rate class, 
at which cards were the chief amusement. Here he 
became one of the leading spirits, and the anecdotes 
he told, with a strength and wealth of language, 
astonished even his audience there, among whom he 
was always spoken of as ‘‘ the pirate,’' and was re- 
garded as the champion liar of the club. The name 
by which he passed as soon as he turned westward 
was Batly. Thus he made some amends to himself 
for the dreary life he had led for the first two years 
he had ^pent in London. He played for a good 
stake, and had won; and having, on consulting a 


22 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


sharp solicitor to whom he was recommended by a 
sporting friend, been assured that a partner could not 
he made to relinquish his position in a firm save by 
some act of dishonesty, he felt secure that, even if his 
habits became known to his brother, he could not get 
rid of him except on the terms at which he would be 
bought out at the dissolution of the partnership. 
Still, he was anxious that this should not get about. 
He might do much better for himself yet, and he 
took every pains to prevent his identity being dis- 
covered, wearing a thick gray wig that effectually 
concealed his own hair, which was still unchanged in 
color; darkening his eyebrows, which, like his hair, 
were light in color ; and wearing mutton-chop 
whiskers, made for him by one of the best perru- 
quiers in town, and warranted to defy detection. In 
business matters he was careful in the extreme. He 
always subordinated any opinion that he might have 
to that of his brother, was ready to spend a morning 
or afternoon at the office in going through all the 
shipping accounts with him, and never once failed 
to go home to dine with him on the usual nights. 

Had he been the head of the business he would 
very speedily have upset all the traditions of the 
firm — have saved money in every direction, insured 
the ships heavily, overloaded them beyond the 
safety point, and sent them to sea so ill-provided with 
proper gear that their loss, if they once encountered a 


BURTON AND SON 


23 


storm, would have been all but inevitable. But he 
knew that any hint at a reduction of expenditure 
would put his brother up in arms at once ; therefore 
he let matters go on without any attempt to introduce 
changes. His brother would occasionally observe 
that there could be no occasion for him to spend the 
whole day at the docks, and he would always reply 
frankly : 

But I don't do so, brother. I know very well 
that there is nothing a captain objects to more than 
having an owner hanging about as if he suspected his 
capability or his honesty ; therefore, after seeing that 
everything is going on all right, I very often, on 
days when there is nothing for me to do, have a run 
down into the country, or take the steamer at Black- 
wall, go down to Gravesend for a blow, then look in 
at the docks again before I go home. I have been ac- 
customed to be on the move so much that I feel I 
must be doing something, and when I have done all 
that I have to do on board I like to be off some- 
where." 

And to this his brother would cordially assent. 


CHAPTER III 


Robert Burton had started in high spirits on 
his first command. His only drawback had been 
that on the morning of sailing the second mate did 
not put in an appearance. He had gone ashore the 
evening before, and had told the first mate that he 
should be on board by four bells,” but he had not 
returned all night. 

‘‘ I cannot think what has become of him,” the 
first mate said angrily on his arrival early in the 
morning. “ He is a very steady fellow, and I never 
knew him not to come off at the hour he had named 
before. I cannot believe that he has been on a 
drunken spree. I have sent to the house where he 
and I sometimes take a quiet glass together in the 
evening, but he has not been there.” 

Robert went ashore at once and proceeded to the 
police office to ask if they had heard of any row tak- 
ing place and a man being carried off to the hospital 
or taken to the station. They had heard of nothing 
more serious than usual. There were about a dozen 
sailors locked up for kicking up a row at a dancing 
place, but on being inspected none of them turned out 
to be the missing mate. It was ten o'clock when 


24 


BURTON AND SON 


25 


Robert returned, after making fruitless inquiries in 
all directions. His uncle had just arrived, and had 
learned from the first mate what had occurred. 

“It is most annoying, Robert. Have you heard 
nothing of him? ’’ 

“ Most annoying in every way,” Robert replied. 

“We shall lose a day by it, and I would not have 
made such a bad start on any account. I am sure 
that something must have gone wrong with Hard- 
ing. That in itself troubles me, for he is a first-rate 
fellow. However, we must get someone else, that 
is evident.” 

“ There is that man who spoke to you yesterday. 
He is standing talking to the captain of the brig 
astern of you. I rather liked his looks.” 

“ I did not notice him. I was busy and did not 
want a mate, so I scarcely glanced at him. How- 
ever, I will see what his papers are like.” 

He walked along the wharf. 

“ You were asking me yesterday if I had a berth 
vacant. I had not then, but something has happened 
to my second mate and he is missing. Whom have 
you sailed with, and what experience have you had ? 
Have you your certificates with you? ” 

The man produced a bundle of papers from his 
pocket. Robert glanced through them. 

“They seem all right enough,” he said to the mate. 

He is a mate of eight years' standing, and has been 


26 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


in the Australian trade for four years. His dis- 
charges are all right. What do you think ? I hate 
picking up a man like this.” 

Of course, it is just as you like, sir. It would 
probably cost you two or three days’ delay to find 
just the man you want.” 

“ I can’t go to-day, anyhow,” Robert said moodily. 

“ I don’t see why you shouldn’t, sir. He could ga 
at once to the office to sign articles, and if he has got 
everything ready, could run dowil to Gravesend by 
train and get on board there. I don’t think that you 
will get much farther than that with this wind. You 
might possibly get down to the Nore, but I don’t 
think we should.” 

“ No; we should hardly get as far as that before 
the tide turns, so that there would not be any great 
loss of time.” 

Then he went back to the sailor with the mate. 

“ Have you got your kit and everything ready? ” 

“ I have a lodging outside the dock-gates,” the 
man replied, and it would not take me five minutes 
to get my things into my sea-chest. What wages da 
you pay ? ” 

Robert named the monthly pay, at which the man^ 
whose name was Lawson, expressed himself satis- 
fied. 

“ We are a temperance ship,” Robert said. “ The 
provisions are good, and there is plenty of coffee and 


BURTON AND SON 


27 


cocoa; we only carry a case of brandy in the event 
of sickness. I may tell you beforehand that I allow 
no swearing on board the ship, and no knocking 
about of the hands.” 

“ I know,” Lawson said, Burton’s ships have 
always borne a name for comfort.” 

“ Very well, then, that is settled. Come with me. 
I will give you a note to Mr. Burton ; ” and with a 
brightened face Robert ran to the bark and shouted 
orders for getting ready to warp her down to the 
dock-gates. He wrote a few lines to his father, and 
sprang ashore again. 

“ The address is on it,” he said ; “ don’t lose a 
minute’s time. I rely on your joining at Grave- 
send.” 

“ You will find me there safe enough, sir; ” and 
the man turned and went off at a run. 

“ It is a rum start,” he said to himself as his sea- 
chest, which was packed and in readiness, was placed 
on the top of a cab and he started for Mr. Burton’s 
office. Anyhow, it will suit me ^very well either 
way. I had twenty pounds down, and am to have a 
couple of hundred if the skipper does not come back ; 
while, on the other hand, I have got into a good 
service without any inquiries that might have been 
very unpleasant. That old Italian fellow meant 
business; there is no mistake about that. I don’t 
know whether his story was a true one — that the 


28 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


skipper had persuaded his daughter to run away with 
him and had ill-treated and deserted her, and she had 
come back and died, and that he was ready to give 
all his savings to have revenge — but at any rate it 
sounded likely enough. I could not make out why 
he should have been so liberal with his liquor night 
after night, pumping me in all sorts of ways. I felt 
sure that he must be up to some game or other, 
though what it was I could not imagine. Well, so 
far it has gone well ; and at any rate we got rid of the 
mate, whose place I have just taken, easily enough. 
It only wanted just a sharp tap on the head in a quiet 
lane ; then we chucked him into the donkey-cart that 
we had hired to drive him to Plaistow Marshes, 
poured that dose the old one brought with him 
between his teeth, and made him swallow it. He 
said that it would be twenty-four hours at least be- 
fore the mate woke, so he is safely out of the way. 
No one is likely to believe his story. It was a good 
evening’s work altogether.” 

In the meantime the Dolphin had passed through 
the dock-gates. The little tug had taken her well 
out into the stream and left her. As soon as her 
sails were set the wind had shifted a little, and they 
were able to lay their course down most of the 
reaches, and were close to Gravesend at least an hour 
earlier than they had hoped for on starting. 

It is a nuisance our having to anchor here, Dun- 


BURTON AND SON 


29 


can; the ebb will run on for a good two hours yet. 
As the wind is now we shall be near the Nore before 
the flood stops us.” 

‘‘ I expect there is more wind down there, sir, and 
we might have held on without anchoring. I think 
it very likely that we should have done so; however, 
it is well that it is no worse. I hope the fellow won’t 
change his mind after all, for this is only Anderson’s 
second voyage as third mate, and I could hardly trust 
him as second; still I must do so if this man does 
not turn up. I should be half-inclined to go into 
Plymouth and see if I could not pick up a second 
there.” 

‘‘ There is a boat rowing out now, sir,” the helms- 
man said, ‘‘ with a man in the stern, with what looks 
like a sea-chest behind him.” 

The mate took up the telescope and looked through 
it. 

“ That is he, sir, sure enough. I am glad indeed. 
It shows, too, that he is a smart fellow. He cer- 
tainly can’t have lost a moment’s time.” 

The wherry was soon alongside. At Robert’s 
orders a couple of hands jumped into her and hoisted 
the box on board. 

‘‘ You certainly have not let the grass grow under 
your feet, Mr. Lawson,” Robert said heartily. ‘‘ I 
hardly thought that you could have got here before 


30 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


“ It was touch-and-go, sir. You were round the 
Northfleet corner before I got on to the shore. Five 
minutes later and you would have had to anchor. I 
reckoned as I came along in the train that it would 
be a close shave, though I had lost no time up in 
town. Here is a note from Mr. Burton.’’ 

It contained only a few lines : 

‘‘ It is very annoying about Harding being miss- 
ing. I cannot think what could have become of him. 
However, you are lucky in being able to fill up his 
place so quickly. Though I own I don’t like taking 
an officer until I have made inquiries about his 
character, still I hope that you will find him all right. 
A pleasant voyage to you, lad.” 

As they went down the sea-reach the wind 
freshened, as the mate had predicted that it would 
do, and they were able to make way against the 
flood and lay their course until round the North 
Goodwin light-ship. Thence they had to beat till 
they were round the South Head light, and then lay 
their course down-Channel, with a brisk southerly 
wind that took them along at nine knots an hour. 

‘‘ This has been a capital start, Duncan. We 
didn’t think at ten o’clock yesterday morning that we 
should be off Dover in twenty-four hours.” 

No, indeed,” the mate replied. “ I think that 
we have got extremely well out of it. Lawson seems 
a smart sailor, and knows his work well.” 


BURTON AND SON 


31 


Ves, I think he will do. I don’t know that I 
quite fancy him, but if he does his work well that 
does not matter. In any case it is of no consequence 
in a craft like this, where most of the men have been 
in the firm’s service for years, and can thoroughly be 
relied upon. If they had been picked up anyhow, 
without inquiry, it would be a different thing alto- 
gether, for with such a crew one fellow may do a 
good deal of mischief. I thought of that when I 
engaged him.” 

So did I, sir. I said to myself that, even if he 
did not turn out well, we could soon manage very 
fairly; for you could keep an eye over Anderson’s 
watch if the weather should happen to be squally, 
and the men are so accustomed to work together that 
they could shorten sail smartly enough even without 
orders.” 

The voyage was an uneventful one. They en- 
countered the usual gale on rounding the Cape ; but 
it was not a very heavy one, and the Dolphin went 
through it without losing a spar. Lawson did his 
duty well, and Robert was well satisfied with him, 
although his first dislike to the man did not alto- 
gether wear off. At times he was talkative; at 
others he was silent and almost morose. One morn- 
ing land was made out to the north. 

Our calculations were pretty correct, Duncan. 
We reckoned we were just on the one-hundred-and- 


32 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


fourteenth degree east and thirty-sixth south, and 
the land that we see there is, no doubt. Cape 
Chatham. We could not have hit it better. Now 
you can lay her a point more to the south. Another 
week and, if the wind holds, we shall be at Mel- 
bourne.’' 

Four days passed; then the wind dropped sud- 
denly, and with it the temperature. It had been for 
some time extremely hot, the wind blowing from the 
north, and the change was a pleasant one. 

“ It is a pea-jacket colder than it was an hour ago, 
captain,” the first mate remarked. 

“Yes; we are going to have a blow from the 
south. I wonder what the glass says.” He went 
into the companion. 

“ It has fallen a quarter of an inch since I looked 
at k this morning. We had better get the light sails 
off her.” 

“ I think so too, sir ; these southerly storms are no 
joke. I was caught in one some years ago, just 
about this spot, and we were very nearly run ashore ; 
in fact, we should have been lost if the gale had not 
broken when it did.” 

The sky-sails and royals were taken off her. 
When that was done Robert again looked at the 
glass. 

“ It is sinking fast,” he said to the mates, who 
were standing together waiting for the next order. 


BURTON AND SON 


35 


will get the topgallant-sails down, and put a 
couple of reefs in the topsails. We had better be 
smart about it; there is a line of clouds banking up 
to the south.” 

Light flaws of wind came across the water, each 
seeming to be colder than the last. Lawson and the 
third mate were both aloft working hard with their 
men. Robert and Mr. Duncan put on pea-jackets 
and brought out their suits of oilskins. 

I should not be surprised if we have snow,” the 
latter said ; it is cold enough for it, and when we 
get the wind in earnest it will be bitter.” 

As soon as the sails were stowed or reefed the men 
were set to work sending down the upper spars. 

‘‘ I think that we are ready for it now,” Robert 
said as the last man came down the ratlines. The 
glass had sunk fully three-quarters of an inch since 
breakfast-time. 

“ Now, men,” he shouted, ‘‘ run down at once and 
get into your warm clothes and oilskins ; you’ll want 
them before many minutes are over.” 

The wind was now rising fast. 

It is better so,” the first mate said, ‘‘ than com- 
ing with a sudden burst. Now she has got plenty of 
way on her she can stand anything, but when a vessel 
is lying becalmed the stiffest craft in the world will 
lie down before a sudden blow.” 

‘‘ You are right, Duncan. We are going over 


34 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


eight knots an hour now, though we have got her 
pretty nearly close-hauled and most of her sail off 
her. -I wish we were a hundred miles farther south.” 

‘‘ So do I, sir,” the mate said heartily. “ I hope 
that there will be some eastings in the wind; then 
we should have a long sweep of water down into the 
Great Australian Bight. As it is, we have Kangaroo 
Island to the south and the mainland to the east, and 
if the wind should veer round to the southwest we 
should be very awkwardly placed.” 

Robert nodded. He had been thinking of this 
while the work was going on, and regretting that he 
had not held more to the south after sighting Cape 
Chatham. Ten minutes later the wind had risen to 
a gale. A fine sleet that was neither snow nor rain 
was blown before it ; the cold was intense. 

The first mate said, “ I reckon there must be a lot 
of ice down south, and that this wind is blowing over 
it.” 

‘‘ I think that must be so,” Robert agreed. “ It 
seems to go. right into one’s bones.” 

An hour later the ship was laid-to under full- 
reefed main and fore-topsails, a small staysail, and 
the stern jib. Coffee was served round, and the 
watch below told to turn in. 

For two days the gale continued with unabated 
fury. It was blowing from the west of south, and 
Robert and the first mate frequently consulted the 


BURTON AND SON 


35 


chart and discussed the probable position of the ship. 
The sea was now tremendous. One of the mates 
was constantly by the side of the two men at the 
helm, holding themselves in readiness to bring her 
up into the wind should she pay off. In one stronger 
gust than usual the fore-topsail and main-topsail had 
blown clean out of the bolt-ropes, and a small stay- 
sail had been hoisted to keep her head up in the wind. 

“ If we could get her round on to the other tack, 
and she could stand a little more sail, I would head 
west; but I don’t think that it is possible.” 

The mate shook his head. “ It could not be done, 
sir. If the wind was a little lighter we might reef 
the spanker, get way on her, and try to get her round 
on the port tack ; but even then I doubt if the waves 
would not knock her head back again the moment 
the sails began to shake. Besides, she certainly 
would not stand the spanker as it is blowing now. 
There is no doubt that she must be driving fast to 
leeward ; and as it is, I am afraid she will go ashore 
somewhere between Cape Bernouilli and Cape Ot- 
way.” 

At this moment the bark made a deeper dive 
than usual. A crash, followed by a shout, was 
heard, and the two officers ran on deck. The bow- 
sprit had been carried away, and the moment after 
they reached the deck the fore-topmast went over the 
side. 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


36 

“ All hands to clear away the wreckage ! Robert 
shouted; and in a minute every man was at work 
with ax or knife, hacking away at the cordage that 
kept the spars close to her side, bumping with a force 
that threatened to stave in her planks. As soon as 
the work was done the carpenter was directed to 
sound the pumps. Robert and the first mate stood 
by him as he did so. 

Two feet six, sir,'' he said as he examined the 
lower end of the rod. 

‘‘ There was sure to be some water in," the mate 
replied. “ In such a sea as this she was certain to 
strain a little." 

“ I hope that is all," Robert said. ‘‘We shall 
soon see. If it increases very slowly, it means only 
that a seam is opened. If it comes in fast, there can 
be no doubt that she has had a plank smashed by the 
end of one of those spars. Sound again in a quarter 
of an hour, carpenter, and let me know." 

Fifteen minutes later the carpenter came aft, and 
Robert saw by his face that the news was bad. 

“ She has made another foot since we last sounded, 
sir." 

“ Rig the pumps," Robert said quietly. 


CHAPTER IV 


While the carpenter was rigging the pumps 
Robert went forward with the first mate and spoke 
to the men. 

‘‘ She is making water faster than I like, lads/’ he 
said, “ and we must get it out of her. It would 
never do to let her get sluggish in this sea. This 
gale can’t last much longer, and as soon as it abates I 
dare say we shall be able to get at the leak. Mr. 
Lawson, will you come aft with Mr. Duncan and 
myself ? ” 

They went into the cabin. The chart was pinned 
on the table, for no regular meals had been taken 
since the storm began. 

‘‘ Now, Mr. Lawson, we will talk over what had 
best be done, and as you know the coast as well as 
we do, I shall be glad of your opinion. A quarter 
of an hour ago there was a foot and a half of water 
in the hold. In fifteen minutes it had risen to two 
and a half, which shows that either a seam had 
opened badly, or that one of the planks had been 
splintered, or a butt started by one of the spars.” 

It looks like it, sir.” 

‘‘ I hope that we shall be able to keep it down,” 
37 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


38 

Robert went on. “I have just told the sailmaker 
to thrum a sail and get it ready to lower down as 
soon as we can make out where the injury is. Of 
course, rapid as the rise was, it will not be main- 
tained, for she is sharp at the bottom, and as the 
water rises it will widen out rapidly and will not rise 
at anything like the same rate as it has done. Still, 
it may prove too much for us, and it is as well to 
discuss at once what had best be done if it gains se- 
riously upon us. In the first place, we have to decide 
as nearly as we can where she is. At present Mr. 
Duncan is quite of my opinion, that she must have 
made a deal of leeway since we laid her to forty- 
eight hours ago. That is what her position was at 
noon, half-an-hour before we last sounded. I should 
say that she can’t be far off the coast.” 

“ No, sir. I should put her about here.” 

“ That agrees very well with our ideas, and Mr. 
Duncan and I had settled that if we could get a 
momentary lull we would try and get on the other 
tack; but it cannot be thought of until we have 
seen whether we can keep the water down, for if 
not we shall have to try and beach her, and we shall 
be running away from land every minute on the 
other tack.” 

‘‘We are in an awkward place, there is no doubt, 
sir; and certainly, now that we have lost our bow- 
sprit, we cannot hope to get her round in this sea. I 


BURTON AND SON 


39 

doubt very much whether she would have gone be- 
fore/' 

“ No ; I am sure she would not. I don’t see any- 
thing for it now but to hold on as we are till we are 
quite sure that we cannot keep the water down. 
Then we shall have the choice of either putting the 
helm up and running before the wind, in hopes of 
finding a decent place to beach her on, or of taking 
to the boats.” 

“ I don’t think either way our chance would be 
worth much, for there must be a tremendous sea on 
the shore.” 

“ Well, I am glad that we are all agreed,” Robert 
said. “ If we have to go ashore in such a sea, the 
chance of any of us getting through it will be slight ; 
but if one of us should get home to tell the tale, it 
would be a satisfaction that we are all agreed that 
we did everything that could be done for the ship 
and crew.” 

After an hour’s work at the pumps the hold was 
again sounded, and showed that the water had risen 
another foot. By this time the sail was ready, and 
it had been discovered that there was a jagged hole 
in one of the planks some two feet below the ordi- 
nary water-line. With great exertions and no small 
risk, for the green water swept over the bows every 
time the ship fell into the sea, the sail was got into 
its place over the hole. It made a difference, for at 


40 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


the end of the next hour the water had only risen 
four or five inches. Mr. Duncan made his way up 
the mainmast, and from the top took a long look to 
leeward. 

“ I am afraid, sir, that we are not very far from 
the land,’’ he said. “ There is a dim, light line all 
along there, and I should say that it is the reflection 
of a heavy line of surf, or perhaps the surf itself 
driven high into the air.” 

“We will wait until we are sure, Mr. Duncan. If 
we are certain, the sooner we run in the better, for 
the deeper she is the farther off we shall strike. You 
had better see that all the boats are in readiness.” 

“ It will be hopeless to try to lower them in this 
sea,” the mate said. 

“ Yes ; I agree with you, but when we get nearer 
we will unlash them all. They will be washed over- 
board by the first sea that strikes us, and may afford 
a chance for some of us to cling to. For the same 
purpose I would, at the last moment, cut the lash- 
ings of the spare spars, the hencoops, and everything 
else that will float. I should say that it would be a 
good plan to cut the lanyard and let the mast go by 
the board a minute or two before we think that we 
are going to strike, having first seen that all attach- 
ments to the deck are free. In that case the men 
would be less likely to be hurt than if the mast went 
forward with the shock; and in the second place, 


BURTON AND SON 


41 


instead of being kept alongside the wreck, it will 
float free, and may help a good many to the shore/' 
A very good idea, sir; I will see it carried out." 

As soon as the two mates had left the cabin Rob- 
ert Burton made the last entry in the logbook, 
wrapped it up in a piece of oilskin, and carefully 
bound it round and round. He then carried it up 
the companion and laid it down at the door, in readi- 
ness to throw overboard at the last moment. Half 
an hour later the line of surf could be clearly made 
out. Robert called the men from the pumps. 

“ It is of no use working any longer," he said ; 
‘‘ we are drifting bodily down on to the land, and our 
only chance now is to head her straight for it. Keep 
cool to the end, lads, and behave like British sailors ! 
I have never sailed with a better crew, and only 
trust that many of you will make your way ashore. 
Before we strike I am going- to have the mast cut 
away, so that you can cling to it and float free of the 
ship. The spars and all other loose articles will be 
also cut adrift, and I don't see why most, if not all of 
us, should not, with the help of God, get ashore 
safely. Now, let us shake hands all round. Now, 
lads," he went on, after this had been done— with 
many a muttered ‘‘ God bless you, sir ! " — ‘‘ now get 
the reefs out of the fore-staysail, and be ready to 
hoist when I give the word." 

He and Mr. Duncan went to the helm and watched 


42 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


the sea, until a wave of more than usual size had 
passed under them. Then Robert shouted, “ Up 
with the staysail ! ” and at the same moment the 
helmsman jammed the helm down. The vessel paid 
off at once. 

‘‘ Hold on all, for your lives ! ” he shouted as an- 
other wave approached while she was broadside-on, 
and swept across her, smashing two of the boats as 
it did so. Before another came she was heading 
towards the shore, with the wind on her quarter. 
In a short time the line of surf could be seen from 
the deck. The mates went about seeing that all the 
halyards, sheets, and braces of the main and mizzen 
masts were cast off. Then Robert stationed three 
men at the shrouds of each mast with axes, and told 
off the rest of the crew to the spars, hencoops, the 
lashings of the caboose, and at other spots where 
articles that could be used to help them ashore were 
fastened. When within a quarter of a mile of the 
line of surf everything was in readiness. 

“We will get as near as we can, Duncan,’’ Robert 
said, “ or we shall leave the spars too far behind. 
Thank God it is a flat shore! But the surf is tre- 
mendous.” 

When they were little more than a ship’s-length 
off the first breaker Robert shouted, “ Cut ! ” The 
crew were now all gathered to windward. The six 
axes fell simultaneously upon the lanyards; a mo- 


BURTON AND SON 


43 

ment later there were two heavy crashes, and the 
masts fell to leeward. 

“ Now to your stations ! '' Robert shouted. 

An instant later there was a crash that shook the 
ship from stem to stern, and as she rose again on the 
next wave the order to cut was given. This time 
the crash was tremendous. The ship stopped dead, 
and the next wave swept clean over her, carrying 
away bulwarks, men, and every movable article on 
deck. The men had been ordered to provide them- 
selves with short lengths of rope, so as to lash them- 
selves to any portion of the rigging that they might 
come across. Robert as he came up found himself 
close to one of the broken boats, and at once lashed 
himself to it. Looking round, he saw with satisfac- 
tion that most of the men were engaged in doing the 
same, though some of the best swimmers were mak- 
ing for the masts. 

It was, he judged, some three hundred yards to 
the shore, and the interval was one sheet of foam, 
while the spray was blinding. He had, however, 
but small opportunity for seeing what was going on 
around him. The waves broke over him ; the spray 
was suffocating. Sometimes the boat was rolled 
over and over. From objects on the shore he could 
make out that, although getting somewhat nearer to 
it, he was being drifted along by a strong current. 
How long he retained his consciousness he never 


44 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


knew. He was gradually approaching the shore, 
but so slowly that he lost all hope of reaching it alive. 
He was as often under water as above it. He had 
long since lost sight of all his comrades, and imag- 
ined that, as the boat floated somewhat above the 
water, the wind was carrying him south much faster 
than the almost submerged spars could float. As 
his senses were leaving him the thoughts of home 
came more and more distinct, and he fancied himself 
there, sitting with his father talking over the voy- 
age. Then there was a long blank. 

When he again became conscious, he was lying in 
a room and a woman was putting something between 
his lips. After that he remembered nothing more 
for a long time. 

Three hours after the Dolphin had struck, a wo- 
man named Marryatt, whose home was a quarter of 
a mile from the shore, had gone down at the earnest 
entreaty of her daughter, a girl of seventeen, to look 
at the sea. 

“ It is grand ! ” the girl said enthusiastically. 

“ It is very terrible,’' her mother replied. Come, 
dear, we can hardly stand.” 

“ Wait five minutes, mother; I do love to see the 
sea in a storm like this. I think it is the worst 
that I can remember.” 

Clinging to each other, they stood for a minute or 
two, and then the girl exclaimed : 


BURTON AND SON 


45 


‘‘ See, mother ! There is something lying down 
there, just about the edge of the surf. The water is 
falling, you see, and it must have been washed up 
there half an hour ago. It looks to me like a bit of 
a boat. There must have been a wreck somewhere. 
I do think there is something under it; I must go 
and see ; ” and in spite of her mother’s protest she at 
once hurried off. 

As soon as she reached it she waved her arm 
wildly to her mother to come to her. Very reluct- 
antly the latter moved down the beach, being more 
than once obliged to kneel down to prevent herself 
from being overthrown by the gusts of wind. The 
girl ran to meet her. ‘‘ Take my arm, mother. It 
is a young man — a ship’s officer, I think by his 
dress.” 

Well, my dear, we can do nothing for him ; he 
must be dead.” 

I am not so sure, mother. He has evidently been 
hurt as he came ashore. I suppose the boat rolled 
over and over with him. He has a dreadful cut on 
his head, and the blood is oozing from it now, so I 
don’t think he can be dead, though he does not seem 
to be breathing.” 

The woman was interested now, and they soon 
stood by the side of the boat. The girl quickly un- 
tied the lashings ; and then, uniting their strength, 
they rolled the fragment of the boat off him. 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


46 

What do you think, mother ? 

I don’t think he is dead,” the woman said, “ or 
he would not bleed. He is very cold, but if he has 
been half an hour out of the water that would he 
natural. The water is so warm that he would not 
have got cold there even if he had been dead. You 
had better run up to the house and bring Jake with 
you. Tell him to fetch a hurdle, and bring that 
bottle of spirits down with you.” 

The girl started at a run. The wind was helping 
her now, and she maintained her speed until she 
reached the house. 

“ Jake! ” she called loudly as she neared it, and a 
native appeared at the door. Jake,” she said, 

there is a sailor who has been washed ashore, and 
we don’t know whether he is dead. Quick! get a 
hurdle and run down. Mother is there with him. 
Quick! every moment is of importance.” 

The native hurried to a shed standing behind the 
house, and by the time the girl had found the key, 
opened the cupboard, and come out with a bottle of 
spirits, he was ready to start. Then they hurried 
back to the shore. 

The woman had lain down by the body of the 
sailor and thrown her shawl over both of them. She 
rose as they came up. 

‘‘ He is alive,” she said, “ but breathing very 
faintly.” 


BURTON AND SON 


47 


After pouring some spirits between his lips, with 
their united efforts they got him upon the hurdle. 
The native took the head, the girl the other end, and 
as the wind helped them it was not long before they 
got into the house. 

‘‘ Lay him down by my bedside,” the woman said. 
“ Bertha, make up the fire in the kitchen ; get plenty 
of hot water, and warm a blanket. Do you, Jake, 
help me to take his things off.” 

As soon as he was stripped the woman got the hot 
blanket and laid it on the bed, and Jake with her 
help placed Robert there, wrapped the blanket round 
him, and piled the clothes about him. Then several 
bottles were filled with hot water; two were placed 
against his feet, and several others on his body. An 
hour later the patient’s breathing became regular. 

Does he show any signs of consciousness, 
mother ? ” the girl asked when the latter came in to 
say Good-night ” to her. 

Not the slightest. His face is flushed now, and 
his pulse is fast. I am afraid that he is going to 
have fever. If he is not better by morning we must 
send over for the doctor.” 

Jake was called up at dawn and dispatched with 
a note. There was a small row of houses two miles 
away, but the nearest doctor lived at Greytown, fif- 
teen miles off. Jake accomplished the distance in 
under three hours, and at eleven the doctor rode up. 


CHAPTER V 


I HEAR there has been a wreck three miles along* 
the coast,’’ the doctor said as he entered. “ I heard 
that eight or ten men had been saved by the settlers, 
who threw ropes out to them and got them ashore. 
I suppose your patient belonged to the ship ? ” 

“ I suppose so ; but he has not regained conscious- 
ness. He got a terrible blow on the head coming 
ashore. I bandaged it as well as I could, but I did 
not like to disturb him.” 

The doctor looked grave as he saw Robert’s 
flushed face, felt his pulse, and listened to his breath- 
ing. 

“ I am afraid that it is a case of concussion of the 
brain.” He took off the bandages and examined 
the wound. 

“ You must keep cold-water bandages to his head, 
and the oftener they are wetted the better. Beyond 
moistening his lips and pouring a spoonful or two of 
water with the smallest possible mixture of spirits 
down his throat, there is nothing to do at present. 
As he gets weaker — which he is sure to do — he can 
have a little broth, but very little. I am afraid that 
48 


BURTON AND SON 


49 

you have a troublesome job on your hands, Mrs. 
Marryatt.'’ 

‘‘ It can’t be helped, sir. If it hadn’t been for a 
fancy of my daughter to go down and look at the 
heavy sea, the poor fellow would have died where we 
found him. I can’t help thinking that he will come 
round, for it was well-nigh a miracle that we were 
there.” 

‘‘ Well, I hope so,” the doctor said shortly. But 
as he rode away he shook his head. 

“ I doubt whether he will get through,” he said to 
himself ; “ and if he does, it is more than likely that 
his brain will be gone. I will go over again in a 
few days just as a friendly visit. I know that the 
poor woman has enough to do to keep her head 
above water. She is a superior stamp of woman for 
her position.” 

He did not follow the shore, having a patient to 
visit at a farm some ten miles away; therefore the 
survivors of the Dolphin did not hear that one of 
their comrades was lying ill at a lonely little farm- 
house three miles away. They consisted of the first 
and second mates and ten of the sailors. The bodies 
of several of their companions were washed up near 
the spot at which they were rescued; and the day 
after the wreck, Lawson, with four of the other men 
who had suffered least from the effects of their 
buffeting by the waves, set out along the shore. 


50 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


For the first five miles many relics of the Dolphin 
were strewn about the beach. Two or three bodies 
were found, and buried in shallow graves beyond the 
reach of the water. They went three miles farther, 
but finding no vestiges, concluded that it was useless 
to search further, and so returned to the spot from 
where they had started, with the news that the body 
of the captain was not among those who had been 
washed up. 

Two or three days later the whole party started in 
a wagon for Melbourne. Here Mr. Duncan took 
ship for England, while Lawson and the sailors de- 
termined to try their luck on the newly discovered 
goldfields. 

The doctor rode over once a week to Mrs. Mar- 
ryatt’s. For a month his patient lay between life and 
death. Mrs. Marryatt and her daughter nursed 
him night and day, and at last the fever left him, 
and very slowly he began to recover strength. It 
was when he was at his weakest that consciousness 
came back to him. His eyes for the first time 
seemed to take in the surroundings. 

Where am I ? he whispered to Bertha Marry- 
att. 

You are safe among friends,” she said. ‘‘ Do 
not try to talk now; you are very weak. Drink a 
little of this broth ; ” and she poured two spoonfuls 
between his lips. 


BURTON AND SON 


51 


Slowly he gained strength; but he talked little, 
asked but few questions, and would lie for hours with 
his eyes fixed on the planking above, with a puzzled, 
wondering expression on his face. The doctor still 
continued to come. 

“ There can be no doubt,” he said to Mrs. Mar- 
ryatt, ‘‘ that his brain is still suffering from the ef- 
fects of that blow, and I am afraid that it will be 
some considerable time before he recovers. Still, I 
hope as he gains bodily strength that the mischief 
will gradually be repaired. As soon as he is well 
enough to get about and interest himself in what is 
going on, the improvement may set in. It is a heavy 
trial for you, Mrs. Marryatt.” 

I have had many trials, doctor,” she said 
quietly. “ This is not a serious one. I hope that we 
may soon learn who he is and be able to communi- 
cate with his friends.” 

He has not spoken of them at all ? ” 

Not a word. He has never alluded to the past 
in any way, or even spoken of the wreck. It seems 
to me that his memory has gone altogether.” 

Another month and Robert Burton was up and 
about. He talked more now, but never of the past. 
The puzzled expression never left his face altogether. 
He looked with some surprise at the clothes of the 
ordinary colonial cut which Mrs. Marryatt had sent 
for to the nearest store as soon as he expressed a 


52 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


desire to get up. But he put them on without a 
word, though frowning heavily at each garment as 
he took it up. As soon as he became stronger he 
began to help in any way in his power. The Mar- 
ryatts were a busy household. Mrs. Marryatt’s tale 
was not an uncommon one. She had come out from 
England to join some friends. On her arrival she 
found that they had moved, and could obtain no 
tidings of them. She had at once taken a situation 
on a farm, and had two months later married a new- 
comer who had stated that he was well off and was 
on the lookout for a larger station on which he in- 
tended to settle. 

In the meantime they lived in a small house near 
Port Phillip. A month or two later he said that he 
had changed his mind, and should again take to sea, 
having made his money in trading voyages. From 
that time he returned only at considerable intervals, 
and a year after Bertha was born his visits ceased 
altogether. Mrs. Marryatt had still some money 
left, and being an energetic woman, determined to 
take up a piece of land and farm it herself. For- 
tunately for her, she had two years before met a 
native boy who begged of her, saying that his father 
and mother were dead and that he was starving. 
Her husband had just left her for the first time, and 
she determined to take the lad in and make him gen- 
erally useful. He had become passionately attached 


BURTON AND SON 53 

to her, and she now relied upon him in no small 
degree for success in her venture. 

An acquaintance mentioned to her that a man he 
knew, who had erected a house upon some land that 
he had taken up, was intending to move up-country, 
and would, he w^as sure, be glad to take a few pounds 
for the place as it stood. She had purchased it, and 
moved there at once with Jake and her child. She 
bought two or three cows, and being a good hand at 
butter-making, found no difficulty in disposing of as 
much as she could make. She also bought a score 
of sheep and two or three pigs. Gradually a good- 
sized garden was formed round the house. The 
cows and sheep had increased in number, and at the 
time when the wreck took place she was living in 
a greater degree of comfort than many who started 
with a much larger capital. She had five-and- 
twenty milch-cows and a flock of two hundred 
sheep. 

She and her daughter milked the cows, made the 
butter, and attended to the garden. Jake looked 
generally after the animals, did the hard work in 
the garden, and made himself useful all round. Her 
dairy being as much as she could manage, she now^ 
sold off the surplus of her stock every year, together 
with the increase of her flock, and with the pro- 
ceeds and the sale of her butter, fowls, eggs, and 
vegetables, and of the pigs of which she now kept 


54 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


twenty, she was doing well. The skimmed milk 
was made into cheeses, for which there was a ready 
sale to the squatters for the use of their hands. 

In six months Robert became a very useful ad- 
junct to the establishment. He seemed to have 
given up troubling about the past, and fell in with 
his surroundings. He worked hard in the garden, 
helped Jake to feed the animals, milked the cows, 
and had now taken to driving the horse and cart 
over to Greytown on market-days, and to the various 
farmhouses owned by Mrs. Marryatf s regular cus- 
tomers. 

Being, like most other sailors, handy in all sorts 
of ways, his spare time was generally employed in 
manufacturing some addition or other to the fur- 
niture of the house; and having good taste in dec- 
oration, he in time transformed completely its in- 
ternal appearance, which had before been bare and 
homely, and, with the assistance of curtains and 
draperies, rendered it a very pretty abode, to the 
delight of Bertha, who, brought up as she had been, 
had hitherto had no idea of what could be effected 
by taste and a small expenditure of money. It is 
not surprising that the natural result followed, and 
that when Robert had been for a year an inmate of 
the house he and Bertha were married with Mrs. 
Marryatt’s cordial approval. 

It is unfortunate, my dear,’^ she said one day a 


BURTON AND SON 


55 


short time before the event took place, “ that Harry 
— for so they had called him — “ knows nothing of 
his past. But after all that matters very little. There 
are many who would gladly forget their past as com- 
pletely as he does. In all other respects I could wish 
for no better husband for you. He has an abundant 
amount of energy, we know him thoroughly, and he 
is in all respects kind and good. No man ever 
showed himself more grateful for kindness bestowed 
upon him, and there seems to be nothing that he 
cannot turn his hands to. You see, this year I have 
not sold off the extra stock as usual, for with him 
beside us we could do with a good many more ani- 
mals than we have. It may be that in time he will 
recover his memory. Dr. Simmonds said that his 
brain seems in every other respect to be perfectly 
healthy, and that some accidental allusion may at 
any moment set it to work again. Of course, from 
his uniform we saw that he was an officer, and I am 
sure from his manner that he is a gentleman — which 
is more than a great many officers of merchant-ships 
are. It is curious that we can never get him to talk 
about the sea. He seems to have an aversion to it, 
and all the time he has been here I have never once 
seen him go down to the beach. Dr. Simmonds 
thinks that the sight of a ship might touch a chord 
in his memory, and I propose that one day we shall 
take a holiday and go over to Port Phillip.'' 


56 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


“ But I don’t want him to change, mother — not in 
any way.” 

“ No, my dear; but I think it is only right that he 
should have a chance of recovering his memory and 
communicating with his friends. You saw how he 
troubled about it at first; and though one seldom 
sees that look which was at first so common with 
him, it must be a trouble to him still. Besides, we 
must remember that, likely enough, he may have a 
father and mother, and perhaps sisters, grieving for 
him at home.” 

I did not think of that, mother. Yes, of course, 
if we could bring his memory back to him he would 
be a far happier man. At times when he is alone I 
can see that shade come over his face.” 

Three months, therefore, after the marriage the 
party started for Melbourne. Robert had shown 
some aversion to the proposal, but when Mrs. Mar- 
ryatt said she had long promised Bertha that she 
should pay a visit there and see the sights of the 
town, he agreed at once. The day before they 
started Dr. Simmonds, who never rode in their direc- 
tion without paying them a visit, dropped in. He 
had heard of their proposed expedition, and in the 
course of the visit he took Mrs. Marryatt aside. 

‘‘ Here is something that may be useful,” he said. 

It is the Melbourne paper in which the account of 
the wreck appeared, with the names of those lost as 


BURTON AND SON 


57 


well as of the survivors. If you see that the sight 
of the shipping awakes any emotion in his mind, you 
should put this paper in his way. I have made a 
large red cross against the account so that it may 
catch his eye. At any rate the experiment can do 
no harm. If he recognizes it, it will do him good ; 
if he doesn’t, it will have no more effect than the 
reading of any other wreck would have.” 

The journey to Melbourne was a pleasant one. 
Mrs. Marryatt had a short time before bought a light 
and well-finished trap and a horse of a very superior 
kind to the animal used for farm-work, together 
with a second horse for Bertha to accompany her 
husband when he rode on business to the town. The 
journey was therefore performed very comfortably. 
Bertha was astonished and delighted at the appear- 
ance of Melbourne. It was, under the impetus of 
the goldfields, rising rapidly into an important city. 
Robert took it all as a matter of course, and evinced 
no surprise whatever even at the glories of the hotel, 
which appeared to Bertha to be almost awe-inspiring 
in its size and luxurious apartments. Two days 
later they started for Port Phillip, Bertha expressing 
a very strong desire to see the great bay. 

The river Yarra at that time had not been im- 
proved, and craft of any size were not able to ascend 
it. After a twelve-mile drive a turn in the road 
brought them suddenly in full view of the great bay. 


58 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


in which lay a number of ships, some recently arrived 
with eager gold-seekers, others lying idle owing to 
their crews having deserted to a man for the dig- 
gings. Robert mechanically drew up the horse and 
sat staring at the ships. He sat thus without say- 
ing a word for three or four minutes. Bertha, look- 
ing timidly up, saw that his face was flushed. She 
glanced anxiously at her mother, who was sitting 
behind. 

“ Speak quietly to him,” the latter whispered. 

Bertha laid her hand gently on her husband’s. 

“You know the ships, don’t you, Harry?” she 
said. 

Robert drew a long breath, and then said in a low 
tone : 

“Yes, I know them; they are full-rigged ships, 
barks, and brigs. Where can I have seen them be - 
fore ? ” and he passed his hand across his forehead. 

“ You will remember presently,” she said quietly. 
“ You know you were a sailor once ; we told you 
so.” 

“ It all seems confused,” he said. “ I seem to be 
in a dream.” 

“ Well, I am not a dream anyhow, Harry,” she 
said cheerfully. “ I am quite real, and so is mother.” 

“ I should like to go back,” he broke in. “ I want 
to think quietly; it all seems strange and confused 
to me.” 


BURTON AND SON 


59 

Give me the reins, Harry ; I will drive until we 
get close to the town.” 

She took the reins from his unresisting hands, 
turned the horse, and started on their return journey. 
He did not say a word until she said cheerfully, 
“ Now, Harry, take the reins again ; we are close 
to the town, and you have thought quite enough for 
the present.” 

He did as she told him, and with an effort roused 
himself, but drove to the hotel without speaking. 
They went up to the private sitting room that they 
had taken; then he said: 

Yes, I am sure that I have been on board a ship. 
I seem to remember all about a ship. Once or twice 
lately I have seemed to have some sort of recollec- 
tion of it, but it was all confused, just as things are 
in a dream. It is not clear yet, but I know that I 
have been to sea. Of course I knew that, because 
you have told me how you found me; but I could 
not recollect how I got there, nor have I any idea 
now. It is somehow all wild and terrible; I don’t 
even like to think of it.” 

“ Well, dear, I want you to read this ; ” and she 
took the newspaper from a bag, opened it, and 
pointed to the marked paragraph. “Not if you 
don’t feel equal to it, dear ; but your memory seemS 
coming back to you, and this may help it.” 

He took up the paper. 


6o 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


“ ‘ Terrible wreck. Loss of the Dolphin/ The 
Dolphin/' he repeated slowly. 

“Yes, Harry; you know, we told you that was 
said to be the name of the vessel, but we did not hear 
it until some time afterwards, and you did not seem 
to recognize the name; you remember, you never 
liked talking about it.” 

He took up the paper again and read very slowly, 
pausing over the words like a child just beginning to 
read. Then his eye ran along the lines faster and 
faster, till he suddenly dropped the paper and sprang 
to his feet with a cry. 

“ I remember it now,” he said in a strange voice. 
“ It was the Dolphin. I can see the scene as we 
neared the coast. I was giving orders. I was her 
captain. My name was — was ” and he hesi- 

tated. 

She glanced at the paper. “ Robert Burton.” 

“ Robert Burton it was. Thank Gk)d, I remember 
it all ! ” and dropping into the chair again with his 
arms on the table, he laid his head upon them and 
burst into a passion of tears. 

Bertha was about to throw her arms round his 
neck, when her mother motioned her not to do so. 

“ Don’t check it, dear; it will clear his brain.” 

So she only laid her hand on his shoulder, and 
stood looking down upon him with eyes blinded 
with tears. 


CHAPTER VI 


It was not long before Robert Burton recovered 
composure, and sitting up, he drew his wife’s face 
down to his and kissed her. 

It is all over, dear,” he said. The cloud has 
cleared away at last. For the last two years I have 
been living in a sort of fog which has seemed to shut 
me in. Happy as I have been, there has always been 
the sense of something missing. I have been grop- 
ing my way in the dark ; but light has come. I re- 
member it all. My name is Robert Burton. I was 
captain of the Dolphin, and a member of the firm 
that owned her. There will be no occasion for you 
and your mother to work any longer, and I can give 
you both a comfortable home in England.” 

‘‘ I don’t care about that at present,” she said. “ I 
am too well contented and happy that this cloud you 
speak of should have cleared away. It was the one 
drawback to my perfect happiness. I have hoped so 
that one day it would be ; and, to tell you the truth, 
it was for that reason that we proposed this trip 
here. Of course, I did wish to see the town, but we 
hoped that when you saw the shipping you might 
remember something of the past. It was a little 

6i 


62 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


plot of ours and of Dr. Simmonds’s. He gave us 
that paper, thinking that if the sight of the shipping 
stirred your recollections at all, this account of the 
wreck, which we had never seen, would perhaps 
bring it all back to you; and it has done so.’’ 

“ The doctor had never quite given up hope,’’ Mrs. 
Marryatt said. “ As for us, it was nothing whether 
you had been a captain or a common sailor. We are 
now comfortably oflf ; but I could see how you were 
troubled over your loss of memory, and feared that it 
might worry you more and more as time went on. 
So you were a captain? We never guessed that. 
You seemed too young for it.” 

Promotion is very rapid when one’s father is 
owner of the ships one sails in,” he said. 

‘‘But, oh, mother!” Bertha spoke out; “just 
think! I am Bertha Burton, and not Bertha Beach! 
Are we properly married? ” 

Mrs. Marryatt looked in some dismay at Robert. 
“ That is a question I must ask a lawyer,” he 
said. “ It is certainly a serious one. I know noth- 
ing about the law. We assuredly are neither of us 
to blame. I was married under the only name I was 
known by. You called me Harry, you know, be- 
cause you said that that was the name of your 
brother, and Beach because I was picked up there. 
It certainly might be awkward some day, if a cer- 
tificate of our marriage was required for any pur- 


BURTON AND SON 


63 

pose, and only one bearing the name of Harry Beach 
should be forthcoming. Sometimes it is necessary, 
years after both parties are dead, to prove a mar- 
riage. Of course, it would now be easy to prove that 
Harry Beach and Robert Burton were the same per- 
son, but it would not be so under the circumstances 
I have mentioned. I must consult a lawyer about it, 
and if he says we must be married again, of course 
we must be. 

Possibly if I make an affidavit of the circum- 
stances of the case, and state that, having in con- 
sequence of an injury to my head, lost all remem- 
brance of my name, I, Robert Burton, was married 
under the name of Harry Beach, it seems to me that 
such an affidavit sworn before magistrates, and a 
similar affidavit made by your mother, and both 
affixed to a certificate of the marriage, would be 
sufficient. At any rate, it would be as well to make 
such affidavits, even if we have to marry again, as 
we should then have them preserved with copies of 
both certificates, which will explain the whole matter. 
I will inquire of the landlord the name of a firm of 
lawyers of the best reputation here, and will go and 
see them.’’ 

The next morning Robert went to the firm of 
solicitors recommended to him, and stated the cir- 
cumstances of the case. 

There is no question, Mr. Burton, that the mar- 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


64 

riage was a legal one. A person may be married 
under a false name, but although under ordinary cir- 
cumstances this would render him liable to prosecu- 
tion and punishment, it in no way alters the legality 
of the marriage. At the same time, unquestionably, 
as you say, it might lead to serious complications 
later on. At the death of yourself and your wife 
the next heir after your children might claim the 
estate on the ground that there had been no mar- 
riage, and in that case they would have immense 
difficulty in proving their legitimacy. I should cer- 
tainly recommend that you go through the ceremony 
again ; and it might be as well to do as you suggest, 
and for yourself, your wife, and her mother each to 
make an affidavit. This, with the two certificates of 
marriage, would elucidate the affair, and would, as 
you say, render the situation more pleasant. If you 
will either call with the two ladies and dictate your 
affidavit here, or send us the statements, which we 
will have put into regular form, we will see to the 
matter. There is, of course, no immediate hurry, 
for although we are not very strict out here, it would 
be better to comply with the statutory law and to re- 
side here for three weeks before the license is ob- 
tained. Of course, I presume that you would rather 
be married here than at a place where the marriage 
was solemnized before.” 

‘‘ Certainly ; at least I should think so, though it 


BURTON AND SON 


65 

would be rather a nuisance staying here for three 
weeks. However, I will talk that over with my 
wife.” 

As he was going down the street a man stopped 
with a sudden exclamation in front of him. 

Why, Lawson ! ” Robert exclaimed, holding out 
his hand. “ Who would have thought of meeting 
you ? It was only yesterday that I learned that you 
were one of those who were saved from the wreck.” 

‘‘Then it is yourself. Captain Burton! We all 
thought that you had gone down in the ship. I am 
glad indeed to see you. We searched the shore eight 
miles along, and though we could not find your body, 
we made no doubt whatever that you had been lost.” 

“ I was picked up on the beach within half an 
hour of being washed ashore, and carried to a farm- 
house a quarter of a mile inland, which will account 
for your not finding my body. It was a lonely house, 
and as I was insensible for nearly two months, they 
were fully occupied in nursing me, and saw none of 
their neighbors ; so it is not surprising that you did 
not hear of my being saved.” 

“ And you have been here ever since, sir? ” 

“ Ever since, Lawson. I got a bad wound in my 
head as I was thrown ashore, and when I came to I 
could remember nothing of the past, and forgot even 
my own name. I have lived there ever since, have 
married, and this is the first time that I have been to 


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REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


Melbourne; and it was only my seeing the ship- 
ping, and reading in an old newspaper an account 
of the wreck of the Dolphin, that it all came back to 
me. But I see that you are not in the dress of a 
sailor either. Have you given up the sea? ” 

“Yes; I have been ever since at the gold-dig- 
gings, and have had such luck that I am going home 
with enough to keep me for the rest of my life.’^ 

“ I am glad to hear it. Come round to my hotel 
and I will introduce you to my wife and her mother."' 

“ I would rather not come to-day, sir, if you don't 
mind. I only got down from the diggings this 
morning, and, as you see, I want a thorough rig-out 
before I am fit to see ladies. But I will come round 
in the evening and smoke a pipe with you down- 
stairs. There is something I want to tell you 
about." 

On returning to the hotel Robert repeated the con- 
versation that he had with the lawyer, and they 
agreed at once to follow his advice. They had the 
evening before had a long talk about the future, and 
had settled that the farm had best be sold. The 
only question was as to Jake, but as there were sev- 
eral of the settlers around who would be very glad 
to take him into their service, knowing how well and 
steadily he had worked, they agreed that he should 
either have a handsome present in money, or that he 
should take with him to his new employment ten of 


BURTON AND SON 


67 


the cows and a hundred sheep, which he could work 
on shares with his employer; or if, as they hoped, 
someone should purchase the farm-house and stock, 
an arrangement should be made for him to remain 
there, he being allowed to keep his share of the an- 
imals with the others. 

Lawson called, as he had promised, in the evening; 
and after sitting with Robert for some time in the 
smoking room, he said, “ I should like to go for a 
stroll with you, Mr. Burton. There is something T 
want to tell you, and there are too many people here 
for us to talk without being overheard. 

Have you any enemies ? ” he asked when they 
had entered a quiet street. 

Well, no; not that I know of, Lawson,” Robert 
replied, in surprise. “ I am certainly not conscious 
of having any enemies. What makes you ask such 
a question ? ” 

“ Well, I can tell you that you have ; and a pretty 
bitter one, too. 1 will tell you how I know. I have 
knocked about for some years in these seas, and, like 
most men who have done that, I am pretty loud in 
my talk and rough in my ways. Before I shipped in 
the Dolphin I was in low water. I had last sailed 
with a skipper I did not like and who did not like me. 
We had a row, and when we were in at Montevideo 
on our way home I knocked him down, thrashed him 
with a rope’s-end as long as I could stand over him. 


68 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


and then took a shore-boat and went up-country till 
he had sailed again. Then I worked my way back 
to England before the mast; but, as you may 
imagine, being without my last discharge and with- 
out a character, I did not see my way to get a berth 
as mate again, and had pretty well made up my mind 
that I should have to ship as a seaman with the in- 
tention of leaving the ship somewhere, in Australia 
for choice, and going up-country, either trying my 
luck at the diggings or taking to sheep farming. At 
any rate I had my papers, and should have less diffi- 
culty in getting a rating there than in England, 
where there are hundreds of men with mates’ 
certificates knocking about looking for employ- 
ment. I used to go to a public on Ratcliffe High- 
way, and being a pretty good hand at yarns, and 
having seen a lot of life among the South Sea Islands, 
I used to tip the frequenters pretty strong tales some- 
times. Well, there was an old chap among them 
who used to listen very attentive to my stories. As 
he was pretty free with his money, and was always 
ready to stand a glass, I used to pitch it in strong, 
and I have no doubt he thought I was an out-and-out 
bad un. I began to see after a bit that he was after 
something, and at last he asked me — not in these 
words, but that is what it was — if I would get rid of 
a man that he had a grudge against. 

“ He told me that this man had married his 


BURTON AND SON. 


69 

daughter or run away with her. He did not enter 
much into that part of the business, but said that the 
man had deserted her in some foreign place, and that 
she had come home and died, and he wanted badly 
to have revenge on him. Now, being pretty hard up, 
if it had been that he only wanted the man to get a 
hearty licking, I would not have minded taking it on ; 
but though I have had some rough fights among the 
Islands, murder was out of my way altogether. 
However, I thought I would hear what he had to 
say, so I drew him on. He said he would give me 
a couple of hundred pounds for the job — twenty 
pounds before starting, and the rest when I came 
back and told him that the other would not come 
back. 

He did not mention names so far ; he simply 
said that he was captain of a ship. I said I did not 
care about going as a hand forward. He made out a 
nice little scheme by which one of the mates was to 
be got out of the way the night before she sailed, and 
I was to step forward at the last moment and get 
his place. I said that I had not got a clean discharge 
after my last voyage. He offered to put that all right. 
I gave him my papers, and when I next saw him 
he gave them back to me, and he had made such a 
neat job of it that I don’t believe a Board of 
Trade chap himself would have suspected that they 
had been monkeyed with. Well, I am not saying 


;o REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

I did right, Mr. Burton, but it did seem to me a way 
out of my difficulties; yet my first idea was to give 
the man a hiding that he would remember to 
the last day of his life for having made me such an 
offer. Then it appeared to me that it would be the 
best thing to pretend to close with him. I should 
get twenty pounds down, which would buy me a 
good rig-out, and a mate’s berth, and so I went in for 
it. The plan acted. I got the twenty pounds, bought 
a fresh supply of togs, and the next evening met him 
by appointment. He had the whole scheme cut and 
arranged, and we followed a man he pointed out. We 
got to a quiet street, then he gave him a knock on the 
head with a loaded stick, and all I had to do in the 
matter was to tie his arms and legs and chuck him 
into a trap he had got waiting close by. Then we 
drove out to Plaistow Marshes, and there we left 
him. When we came back again he told me for the 
first time what ship I was to sail in and the name of 
her captain. I followed his orders, and, as you 
know, got the berth of your second mate. It was 
not a square business at all, Mr. Burton, but I was in 
a hole, and as I had no thought of ever earning that 
hundred and eighty pounds, I chuckled over the 
thought of having got twenty pounds out of the old 
man^ and a berth. I did my duty while I was on 
board, sir.” 

'‘You did, Lawson, and Mr. Duncan and I con- 


BURTON AND SON 


71 


gratulated ourselves several times on having been 
lucky enough to get such a smart sailor at a moment’s 
notice. But I cannot understand the thing at all. I 
have never been married, and certainly never ran 
off with a young woman and then deserted her. It 
must have been a mistake altogether. The man 
must have taken me for someone else.” 

“ I don’t know, sir. He seemed to know your 
name all right, and and told me that you were part- 
owner, and that I could not sail in a better ship than 
the Dolphin, I satisfied myself about that the after- 
noon before I sailed, when I went down to the ship 
and asked if there was a vacant berth, and fell chat- 
ting with some of the hands, and learned that the 
ship was in all respects stoutly and well found, and 
that it was your first voyage as master.” 

‘‘ Still, he must have taken me for someone else, 
Lawson. He may have caught sight of the rascal 
who treated his daughter so badly, have seen me 
afterwards, and thought that I was the man.” 

I was sure that you were not the man, sir. I 
did not need to be long on board to find out what 
you were, and to know that you would not be one to 
be up to rascality of that ^ort ; but it did not appear 
to me that he had made any mistake. I didn’t quite 
take in his story at the time, but it made no differ- 
ence one way or the other. I had no idea of carry- 
ing the business through, so it made no odds to me 


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REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


whether the story was true or not. It was clear 
that for some reason or other he hated you and 
wanted you to be put out of the way, and was ready 
to pay handsomely for the job; and it did not seem 
to me that he was likely to pay such a price for it 
unless he was pretty certain that it was the right man 
he was setting me on.” 

“ It is a strange business, Lawson, and I can make 
neither head nor tail of it. What was the man 
like?” 

“ Well, sir, he was a man of about fifty, I should 
say. The fii-st time I saw him I took him to be a 
crimp. There are many such who hang about the 
publics in the Highway and by the docks to pick up 
sailors. Afterwards I fancied that he must have at 
some time or other been a sailor, and perhaps a mate 
who had lost diis ship as I did, got a little money 
somehow, and set up. I guessed it because in one of 
my yarns I was talking of sailing from one island to 
another. I gave the wrong name, and he put in the 
right one. I did not think that it was the right one 
at the time, and I said to him, ‘ I suppose you know 
more about it than I do?’ He said, ‘No, no; I 
have got some old charts at home left by a sailor 
mate who lodged with me, and of an evening when 
I have nothing better to do I often look over them, 
and when I hear yarns, look up the places, so I have 
got to know them pretty well.’ I did not think 


BURTON AND SON 


7*3 


anything of it at the time, but next day I went into 
a shop in the Highway where they keep charts and 
such things, and got them to let me have a look at 
one of the Islands; and, sure enough, the man had 
been right and I had been wrong.” 

“ Can you tell me any more about his appear- 
ance? ” 

“ He was clean-shaven on the upper lip and chin, 
but he had side-whiskers and a beard curling up 
from under the chin. He was as gray as a badger 
on the top of his head, and almost white on the 
whiskers and chin.” 

“ I don’t know anyone at all like that,” Robert 
said thoughtfully. 

There was something else about him,” the 
man said. “ I cannot remember what it was, though 
at the time I noticed it particular; but if I were to 
see him again I should remember it at once and be 
able to swear to him.” 

“ Well, it is a serious business, Lawson, and it is 
evident to me that, whoever he is, he made a rnis- 
take in his man ; otherwise I might have gone over- 
board some dark night, and my chances would have 
been less than they were when the Dolphin went to 
pieces.” 


CHAPTER VII 


The arrangements for the sale of the farm were 
made without difficulty. As soon as it became 
known that Mrs. Marryatt was going to England 
and was willing to sell out, there were many applica- 
tions for the place. It had, during the last two 
years, been regarded as the best-managed and most 
thriving farm in the district, and it fetched a con- 
siderably higher price than she had expected. Jake 
was for a time inconsolable on hearing that his mis- 
tress was leaving, but his elation at the arrangements 
made for him, and the fact that he was to be the 
owner of ten cows and a hundred sheep, did much 
to reconcile him. Robert drove his wife and her 
mother over, and they remained there for a week 
to make their preparations and to say good-by to 
their neighbors. Then they returned to Melbourne, 
and Robert went alone to complete the arrange- 
ments for the sale. 

At the end of the three weeks Robert and Bertha 
were again married at Melbourne, and made the 
necessary affidavits, and had the story inserted in 
the papers. The day after it appeared Robert had 
an unexpected visitor in the master of one of the 


74 


BURTON AND SON 


75 


Brm’s ships which had come into Port Phillip three 
days before. Robert had at one time sailed under 
his command. 

“ I was delighted when I saw that account in the 
paper this morning,” Captain Hershell said. “ Of 
course, we had all given you up for dead when we 
heard of the wreck of the Dolphin and your name 
appeared among the drowned. Have you heard all 
about it since? I suppose you cannot, or I should 
have been told so at the office. How is it that we 
had no news of you? ” 

Robert gave a short account of what had passed. 
The captain looked serious. 

‘‘ In that case, Mr. Burton,” he said, you cannot 
have heard the sad news from home.” 

‘‘ No ; I have heard nothing. What is it ? ” 

“ I am sorry to have to be the first to tell you. 
Your father died suddenly two months after the 
news came of the loss of the Dolphin.^' 

The news was a terrible shock to Robert, who had 
been devotedly attached to his father, and for two 
or three days he was completely prostrated. He 
heard from the captain that his uncle William had 
assumed the entire mastership of the business as heir- 
at-law. 

‘‘ There will be satisfaction indeed at your return, 
Mr. Burton, for things have changed sadly for the 
worse. Everything is cut down ; the ships are badly 


76 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


found, the provisions put on board villainous, and 
the ships are stinted in every way. Several of the 
captains and a good many of the mates have left the 
service, and I don’t suppose there are a score of the 
old hands left.” 

‘‘ I will set things right when I go back,” Robert 
said. “ I have taken a passage on the Sydney, 
which sails this day week. I shall be three-fourths 
owner of the business, and fortunately a deed of 
partnership includes a clause which will enable me 
to get rid of my uncle at once.” 

‘‘ You will have to be sharp, sir, and see that he 
doesn’t put his hand on anything that he can get 
hold of and bolt. I am sorry to say so of one of the 
firm, but he is hated not only by all of us, but by the 
clerks in the office. If I might advise you, I should 
say you had best go to your father’s lawyers and 
get them to put an embargo — I don’t know what the 
land term is — on everything before he knows that 
you have got back.” 

That would be a very good plan,” Robert 
agreed. ‘‘ I know my father left some twenty or 
thirty thousand pounds, and I suppose that this fel- 
low has got hold of it. I never liked him, and my 
father knew I didn’t. That is why the clause was 
put in to enable me to buy him out. Look here, 
Hershell; I think that it would be a good thing for 
you to hand over your command at once to some 


BURTON AND SON 


77 


other skipper to take home. There are any number 
of them whose ships are laid up owing to the hands 
having deserted.” 

“ Very well, sir. Of course, I will do so if you 
wish it ; but I would rather that she was in the hands 
of Turnbull, my first mate. He has sailed with me 
ten years now, and I could depend upon him 
thoroughly. The second mate is a good man too. 
He could act as first, and we could ship another as 
second.” 

“ That would be more satisfactory,” Robert 
agreed. ‘‘ Besides, after all, there might be a dif- 
ficulty about getting a captain ; for, of course, as long 
as his ship is here a man remains in command even 
if he has no crew, and his pay runs on as well. Will 
you arrange that for me? You see, you will be able 
to identify me. The second mate of the Dolphin is 
here, and is going home in the same ship with me.” 

‘‘ But I suppose you know your father’s lawyers, 
sir?” 

“ Oh, yes. I have been with him to the office of 
the firm. Besides, they have dined with my father 
several times when I have been home. After all, it 
would not be worth while for you to come, and I 
know a master hates being taken out of his ship.” 

Four months later the Sydney arrived in London. 
As soon as he landed Robert took his wife and Mrs. 
Marryatt to an hotel, and then drove with Lawson 


78 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


to his lawyers in Lincoln's Inn Fields. Their aston- 
ishment when he entered was unbounded, and they 
listened to his story with intense interest. 

“ I landed only an hour ago,” he went on. I 
hear that my uncle has been playing the deuce with 
the ships, and my own opinion of him is that he is a 
rascal. I never liked him when I was at home, and, 
as you know — for you drew up the deed of partner- 
ship — my father gave me the power of buying him 
out, because he saw I did not like him. My fear is 
that as soon as he learns I am in England he will 
realize all my father’s property and bolt with it.” 

One of the partners smiled, and said : 

“ He cannot do that. He came to us directly your 
father died, and said that, as heir-at-law, he of 
course inherited his property, for they had, so far 
as he knew, no other relation in the world. We 
did not like his manner, though he endeavored to 
disguise it. It was clear that he was in a state of 
great exultation. So we told him that the matter 
required consideration, and that, as your father’s 
trustees, we should decline to hand the property over 
until we had received more certain news of your 
death. He got into a towering passion, and said 
that he should at once place his business in the hands 
of another firm. He then applied to the courts for 
an order that, as you had been lost at sea, your death 
should be taken as proved. We appeared as trus- 


BURTON AND SON 


79 


tees^ and urged that such an order would be alto- 
gether premature. You might have been picked up 
on a floating spar by some passing ship; you might 
have been washed ashore and have been taken up- 
country by the blacks. Beyond the fact that the ship 
was wrecked and that you were not one of those who 
made their way at once to shore, there was no proof 
whatever of your death. The bodies, with one ex- 
ception, of the whole of the missing crew had been 
found on the beach and identified. Had you shared 
the same fate, the presumption was very strong that 
your body also would have been found, and that a 
sufficient time ought to be allowed to elapse before 
any order was made. You might have been picked 
up by a whaler outward bound, in which case a year, 
or possibly two, might elapse before you returned 
to Australia. And finally we obtained a judgment 
from the court that no action could be taken until 
at least four years had elapsed, when an application 
might again be made to them. 

I then applied for and obtained an order that, 
although your uncle would, as the sole member of the 
firm present in England, manage the business, strict 
accounts should be rendered, and that three-fourths 
of the profits should be paid to us as your father’s 
trustees until the court should decide that you must 
be considered to be dead. If there was ever a man 
bitterly disappointed, it was your uncle. I watched 


So 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


him narrowly while the judgment was being given. 
He grew white with rage, and although I own that 
personally I had no hope of your ever turning up 
again, I was heartily glad that I had at any rate put 
a spoke in his wheel.’' 

“ That is good news indeed,” Robert said. How 
would you advise me to proceed now? ” 

“ There is, in fact, nothing but the dissolution of 
partnership to be brought about. The ordinary 
course would be for us to give him formal notice that 
you have returned to England, and that you intend 
to exercise the option given you in the deed of part- 
nership. In giving him notice of the fact, we shall 
state that we are prepared to give him three or four 
firms of accountants to choose from. We will pro- 
ceed to value the ships’ stores and assets in order to 
arrive at the share to which he will be entitled. We 
will, of course, say that no question can arise as to 
your identity, as we ourselves have been acquainted 
with you almost from childhood.” 

‘‘ That will be much the most pleasant way of 
carrying it out,” Robert said. ‘‘ I don’t want to 
have any personal row with my uncle, and would 
rather keep away from him altogether until he goes 
out and I walk into the office. Has he taken pos- 
session of the house at Old Brompton? ” 

‘‘No; it is just as it was left. We have a care- 
taker there. I don’t know where your uncle is 


BURTON AND SON 


8i 


living, but he made no application for the house, and 
is, I believe, living in chambers in Gray’s Inn. I be- 
lieve that he has been going on queerly altogether. 
Your father’s head clerk called in some three months 
ago and said that he had been discharged. He said 
that your uncle was very irregular in his attendance 
at the office, and that he went on so strangely some- 
times that the opinion of all the clerks was that he 
was in liquor.” 

I will keep away from him, anyhow. I am stay- 
ing at the ‘ Golden Cross.’ When you get an 
answer in return to your communication, I shall be 
glad if you will let me know.” 

The next day, when Robert returned from taking 
the ladies to see some of the sights of London, he saw 
Lawson pacing up and down in front of the hotel. 
The latter made a sign that he wished to speak to 
him privately, so, after seeing the ladies up to their 
room, Robert went out again. 

I have discovered a rum thing, Mr. Burton. I 
don’t know how you will take it, but you certainly 
ought to know about it.” 

What is it, Lawson ? ” 

Well, sir, it is a rum affair. I don’t know how 
it will affect you, but at any rate it is my business to 
tell you. Last night I went round to that public 
where I met the chap who wanted you put out of 
the way. I had made up my mind to give him a 


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REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


thundering good hiding if I caught him. I asked 
about him, but they all said it was a long time since 
he had been there. I tried to get as near as I could 
to the time when he had last come, and found it 
was about two years, and, as near as they could tell, 
that he had never been there since the time I went 
away. This is just what I expected; and, indeed, I 
never thought from the first that I should ever see 
anything of him again. If I had carried out his 
scheme he would not have cared to pay me the hun- 
dred and eighty pounds that he promised. I had 
no hold over him. In the first place, I should never 
be able to find him again ; and in the next, he would 
have laughed in my face and accused me of being, 
by my own confession, a murderer, and said that the 
story had only been got up to extort money from 
him.” 

‘‘ Yes; I fancied that myself, Lawson, when you 
told me the story. A man who had made such a pro- 
posal to you was clearly not the sort of fellow you 
could rely upon to pay you for the job afterwards. 
But that is not what you wanted to tell me, is it? ” 

“No, sir; I am coming to that. I went this 
morning to the firm’s counting house to get the 
wages due to me up to the day when the Dolphin was 
lost. The cashier said that I must wait for Mr. 
Burton’s instructions, and that I had better take a 
seat, for he had not come in yet. Presently a gentle- 


BURTON AND SON 


83 


man came in, and as his eye fell on me as he passed 
through to the inner office he stopped for a moment, 
sudden, as if someone had hit him. Then he turned 
round and went into his room. It struck me as 
queer that I seemed to have some sort of recollec- 
tion of his face, yet as I sat there I said to myself, 
‘ I know I did not see him when I was here before.' 
It was your father I saw then, sir. The bell rang a 
minute or two after he had gone into the room. A 
clerk went in first, and then he came out and the 
head clerk went in. When he came out he had a 
check in his hand. ‘ Here is your money, Lawson,' 
he said to me. ‘ I had made out your account, but 
I had some doubts whether you would get the 
money, seeing that it is so long ago, and you had not 
come back to claim it. Anyhow, I thought there 
would have been trouble over it. Things have 
changed here since you went away, and it is not 
often, I can tell you, that a check is paid as regu- 
larly as this.' I signed the receipt, went out, and 
walked straight to the bank and drew the money. 
As I came back I kept on thinking where it was that 
I had seen the face, and wondered why your uncle 
should have started so when he saw me; for I was 
certain by the expression of his face that, somehow 
or other, he knew me. Well, sir, I was half-way 
along the Strand before it struck me that it was the 
face of the man who had offered me that money to 


84 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


get rid of you. It came upon me all of a flash and 
knocked me silly for a minute. With you out of the 
way, he would have the whole business and every- 
thing in his hands in case of your father’s death.” 

“ It can’t be, Lawson ! I don’t like the man ; I 
believe him to be a scheming rascal, although he is 
my uncle ; but he could never, after being so kindly 
treated by my father, deliberately set about to cau§e 
my death. Besides, the description you gave me of 
the man did not tally at all with his.” 

“ No, sir ; but the gray hair and white whiskers 
might have been false — in fact, I have no doubt that 
they were. However, there was one thing that 
would help me. So I turned round and walked back 
to the oflice, and hung about outside until one of the 
clerks came out. I had noticed that the man always 
wore a finger of a glove — a finger-stall, I think, you 
call it — on the little finger of his left hand. I won- 
dered what he had done with it, because he wore it 
all the time that I saw him, which might have been 
two months, off and on, and it seemed to me that if 
he had hurt his finger it ought to have been well 
before that.” 

“ Good heavens ! ” Robert broke in ; “ my uncle 
had lost one joint of his little finger! ” 

‘‘ Quite so, sir. That is what I learned from the 
clerk; and no doubt he always wore the finger-stall 
when he went to see me to prevent my being able 


BURTON AND SON 


85 

to recognize him by that finger afterwards. It is the 
same man, sure enough, Mr. Burton. I could swear 
to him by his face alone, now that I have thought it 
over ; but the finger, and the start he gave when he 
saw me suddenly, settled it, and I could take an oath 
to him in any court of justice.'' 

“ Well, I must think it over, Lawson. Don’t say 
a word to anyone. I am not doubting what you say. 
But granting, in the first p'lace, that he is the man, 
it would be only your word against his ; and as you 
did not see the finger, of course the fact that when 
you saw him he had a finger-stall on could not in 
itself be considered as an identification. In the next 
place, it would be a horrible scandal ; and even if we 
had evidence that would certainly obtain a convic- 
tion, I could not move in the matter, for it would be 
intolerable to be pointed out as the man who had 
got his uncle transported. However, the matter 
may be useful in bringing pressure to bear upon him 
if he makes up his mind to fight — which I hardly 
think he will do, for it is clear that he has not a leg 
to stand on." 

After saying Good-evening " to Lawson, Robert 
walked up and down for some time before going 
in. He was deeply troubled. If this scoundrel had 
endeavored to get him murdered, he certainly would 
not have hesitated to murder his brother as soon as 
he heard of the wreck of the Dolphin and the drown- 


86 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


ing of himself. His father had died suddenly. It 
was likely enough that his death had been brought 
about by poison! It was a horrible idea, and he 
endeavored in vain to turn it from his mind; but 
it was clear that it was at least possible. If he were 
certain of it, even the scandal and disgrace would not 
prevent him from bringing the murderer to punish- 
ment. At last he resolutely put the matter alto- 
gether out of his mind, and went upstairs and joined 
his wife and her mother; and starting a conversation 
on the places that they had visited during the day, 
he succeeded in preventing them from having any 
suspicion that he had been troubled. 

Two days later he heard from the lawyers; and 
upon goingTo see them, found that on the previous 
day they had obtained an ad interim injunction 
restraining the bank from parting with any moneys 
held by them in the name of William Burton, and 
restraining the latter from dealing with any property, 
ships, or commodities, and that they had at once 
furnished him with a copy of both injunctions, to- 
gether with a notice of the return home of his 
nephew, and of the intention of the latter to in- 
stantly avail himself of the provision for the dissolu- 
tion of the partnership. Robert informed them of 
the discovery that Lawson had made. They agreed 
entirely in the view that he had taken of it. 

“ It may be quite true, Mr. Burton ; but Lawson’s 


BURTON AND SON 


87 


evidence would not be sufficient to bring it home to 
him, especially as, even according to his own account, 
he has a somewhat doubtful record, and actually 
received money to bring about your death. No jury 
would convict upon his unsupported evidence. Still, 
it may be of assistance. No doubt we shall have a 
personal interview with him, and though I should 
certainly not like to put this matter on paper, I would 
use it to show him that his best plan would be to 
throw up his cards without giving us any trouble in 
the matter.” 

That afternoon, indeed, William Burton called 
upon the lawyers, and began by declaring that the 
senior partner, who received him alone, had been 
imposed upon, that his nephew was certainly dead, 
and that the man they acted for must be an im- 
postor. 

“ That is perfectly absurd, Mr. Burton,” the law- 
yer said quietly. “ I and my partner have been 
acquainted with him from childhood, and are both 
ready to answer as to his identity; and, of course, 
the clerks in the office, and the officers and men of 
the ships in which he sailed, would be ready to do 
the same.” 

“ Then why does he not come to me direct as a 
friend and relative?” 

“ For several reasons, Mr. Burton. In the first 
place he has learned that you are ruining the ships 


88 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


and destroying the good name of the firm by your 
manner of carrying on the business; in the second 
place, he has obtained some knowledge of your man- 
ner of life — your habit of drinking, and other mat- 
ters; and, in the last place, because he has learned 
that you have conspired against his life. He does 
not wish to make the matter public. It would not be 
a credit to him to have a relative transported for life. 
If pushed it is another matter. He has asked us to 
consider whether it would not be advisable to apply 
to the court for the exhumation of his father’s body, 
in order to ascertain whether he came to a natural 
end.” 

As he spoke he kept his eye upon William Bur- 
ton’s face, and he saw his expression change from 
the air of insolent bravado with which he had en- 
tered to one of terror. 

My client,” he went on, “ is not desirous of 
pressing these matters, though he would do so with- 
out hesitation were it necessary. If )^ou are willing 
to accept at once and without demur a check for ten 
thousand pounds, will abstain from entering the 
office again, and will take your departure quietly, 
giving me a receipt for the money and a renunciation 
of all claim against the property of the firm or that 
of the late Mr. John Burton, I will at once hand you 
the check. I think my client is acting with quite 
unnecessary generosity. You are wholly at his 


BURTON AND SON 89 

mercy, and were the matter laid before the court, 
there is no question what its decision would be.” 

“ It is a lie from beginning to end,” William Bur- 
ton said haughtily, “ but I don’t want any bother. 
Give me the check and I will sign anything you like.” 

In half an hour the receipt was drawn up by a 
clerk to the lawyer’s dictation, and was sullenly 
signed by William Burton, who, on receiving the 
check, put on his hat and left without a word. As 
he went downstairs he encountered Robert, but 
passed him without recognition, being in such a state 
of fury that he noticed nothing and did not so much 
as glance at two ladies who were standing waiting 
outside. Half a minute later Bertha hurried into 
the lawyer’s office. 

“ Please come downstairs, Robert. My mother 
has fainted.” 

Robert ran down. Mrs. Marryatt was being 
supported by two gentlemen who happened to be 
passing as she uttered a cry and would have fallen 
had they not caught her. She was carried upstairs, 
water was sprinkled on her face, and in time she 
recovered. 

'' Take me home, Robert,” she said, as soon as she 
could speak. “ I will tell you about it afterwards.” 

A hackney-coach had already been sent for, and 
she was driven back to the hotel. By this time she 
was somewhat recovered. 


90 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


Leave me alone with Robert for a little time, 
Bertha. I want to speak to him alone.’’ 

“ What is it, mother? ” he asked. 

“ I have seen my husband,” she said. 

“ Mr. Marryatt ! ” Robert exclaimed in astonish- 
ment. 

She nodded. “ He rushed down almost directly 
you had gone up. I recognized him in a moment, 
though, of course, he is a great deal changed. He 
had his hand up to his chin — a trick he often had — 
and I saw that he had lost part of his little finger. 
It was done before he married. He told me that 
it was in a fight with pirates. I am absolutely cer- 
tain that it was he.” 

Did he notice you ? ” Robert asked. 

“ No ; he was staring before him, and seemed to 
me, by the way he pushed past me, to be terribly 
put out at something.” 

“You don’t want to meet him again, mother?” 

“ No, no ! ” she exclaimed ; “ I would not meet 
him for worlds. He treated me brutally, besides 
deserting me. He has been dead to me for eighteen 
or twenty years, and I have no doubt that he thinks 
me dead.” 

“ Perhaps it was only a chance resemblance,” 
Robert suggested. 

“ No, no; I am certain that it was he.” 

“ Well, he is not likely to 'meet you again, mother. 


BURTON AND SON 


91 


and I don't suppose that he would know you if he 
saw you. At any rate, I will take good care that he 
shall never trouble you. Do not think anything 
more about it. I am happy to say that all my 
troubles are over. My uncle has accepted the ten 
thousand pounds as his share of the business, and 
has given everything up. I shall go down to the 
office to-morrow and take possession as sole owner. 
If you feel well enough, we will take a coach after 
dinner and drive down to my father’s house. To- 
morrow morning you and Bertha can move in and 
take possession. The things will all be sent there, 
and I shall come home in the afternoon to dinner.” 

Robert was received with delight at the office, 
where nothing had been heard about his return. 

‘‘ Mr. William Burton will be astonished when 
he comes in, sir,” the chief clerk said. 

Mr. William Burton will not come in any 
more,” Robert said shortly. ‘‘ He has retired from 
the business altogether. I am now the sole owner.” 

The news was received with scarcely less pleasure 
than had greeted Robert’s arrival. The latter at once 
set to work to undo all his uncle’s arrangements. 
All outstanding orders were canceled, and the firms 
that had formerly supplied the shipping were com- 
municated with and told that henceforth the old ar- 
rangements would be renewed. The captains of the 
two ships that happened to be in dock were sent for 


92 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

and told to furnish full lists of all necessaries re- 
quired, and to ship as many of the old hands as they 
could come across; and it was not long before the 
firm again stood as high as it had done in the days of 
John Burton. Nothing was ever heard afterwards 
of William Burton, and to the end of their lives 
neither Mrs. Marryatt nor Bertha ever knew that 
the husband of one and the father of the other 
was the man who had attempted the life of Robert 
Burton. 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 

CHAPTER I 


There were few more popular men within a circle 
of a hundred miles than Jim Brown. His place lay 
some way up a deep valley among the eastern hills 
of New M exico. Mos! of the land in the valley be- 
longed to iiim, and his cattle could wander among 
the hills in search of fresh forage for many miles 
each way without there being anyone to question 
their right. At the mouth of the valley, two miles 
away, stood a little cluster of five or six houses, con- 
sisting of a drinking shop, a tiny general store, and 
the houses of the men who worked for Jim Brown 
in the busy season, and who at other times cultivated 
small patches of ground, raising chiefly vegetables, 
pumpkins, and melons for sale to the cowboys on the 
surrounding ranches. ^ 

Jim Brown kept almost open house, and it was a 
most natural thing for a cowboy who got a couple 
of days’ holiday, and did not care about going down 
to the nearest town for a spree, to say, “ I shall go 
up to old man Brown’s and see how things are get- 
ting on.” He knew that he could rely upon a hearty 

93 


/ 


94 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


welcome, good food, and better whisky than could 
be got anywhere else in the county, and also on a 
pleasant greeting from Polly Brown. As Jim 
Brown, although in comfortable circumstances, was 
by no means rich, it might be thought that he would 
ruin himself by such lavish hospitality, but his vis- 
itors took care that he should not suffer in this re- 
spect. They would seldom go empty-handed. It 
might be that a freshly-killed deer would be slung 
behind the saddle, or a couple of bear’s hams. Some- 
times it would be two or three pounds of tea or to- 
bacco from the town, besides which, at parting, they 
would slip two or three dollars into the hands of one 
of the children ; but more than this, they would brand 
mavericks with Polly’s special mark, which, like all 
other marks, was duly registered in the county office. 

Mavericks are unbranded animals. Once or twice 
a year the whole of the cattle over a vast district are 
driven in by the men of the various ranches using it 
to a common center, and then each calf is branded 
with the mark of the cow beside which it is running. 
But in scouring so wide and broken an extent of 
country, many cows, with their calves, grazing in 
side ravines, escape the search of the cowboys. In 
time the calves grow up and leave their mothers, and 
then there is no saying to which ranch they belong ; 
and it is forbidden to put on them the brand of any 
of the ranches using the run, for were this done it 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


95 


would open the way to a vast amount of robbery, 
as the men of one ranch might purposely neglect to 
drive in cows of other ranches, and then brand all 
the mavericks with their own mark. Consequently, 
it is open to cowboys who find a maverick to mark it 
with any brand they please, and in this way the 
daughter of any ranchman friendly with the cow- 
boys, or who is herself popular among them, often 
finds herself mistress of a herd of two or three hun- 
dred cattle, as, of course, the produce of the maver- 
icks is branded with the mark of the cow, and so 
the herd increases rapidly. 

Polly Brown had no idea how many cattle she 
owned. She had never seen one of them, but the 
cowboys told her that they believed there must be 
four hundred bearing her brand, and these would all 
be cut out from the herds and driven in to form her 
marriage portion when she made up her mind to 
choose between her many suitors. Polly was supe- 
rior to most of her class. Her mother had died when 
she was an infant, and she had been taken by her 
father to an aunt in a town in Texas, and had there 
been left until she reached the age of fifteen. Her 
uncle kept a store, and the child was sent to a day 
school. Being a clever girl, she knew at the age of 
fifteen as much as the schoolmistress could teach 
her. Her aunt had taught her to be neat and tidy 
and to use her needle, and when she returned to her 


96 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

father^s place she was regarded as quite a phenome- 
non. 

It was not a very tidy place, for her father had 
married again, this time a Mexican woman, and 
Polly was aghast at the dirt and disorder and at the 
riot made by six swarthy little half-breeds who per- 
vaded the house. However, she speedily took the 
place into her capable young hands, and it was soon 
as neat as it was possible for a house to be under 
such circumstances. Mrs. Brown willingly resigned 
the reins of government, devoting herself entirely to 
the kitchen department, being, like many Mexican 
women, an excellent cook. She might perhaps have 
resented the changes Polly made, but the girl had 
brought back with her from the town, by her father’s 
advice, a large stock of dress materials, and some of 
these were speedily made up by her into dresses for 
the girls; while clothes which, if not remarkable 
specimens of tailoring, were vastly superior to any- 
thing they had worn before, were made for the boys 
out of stuffs purchased at the store down in the vil- 
lage. 

Polly had now been at home nearly four years. 
She could ride any horse on the ranch, was almost as 
good a rifle-shot as her father, could manage stockf 
and throw a rope, and yet she had not grown in any 
way coarse. She was fond of reading, and the cow- 
boys knew that they could bring her no more wel- 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


97 


come present than two or three volumes from the 
town. By them she was treated with the most chiv- 
alrous respect, and whatever the language they 
might use out on the plains, there was never an ob- 
jectionable word uttered in her presence. Polly had 
had scores of offers of marriage ; indeed, there was 
scarce a cowboy in the neighboring ranches who 
had not at one time or other tried his fortune. She 
had simply laughed at them, but laughed so pleas- 
antly that there was no feeling of soreness among 
them at their rejection. There was not one, indeed, 
but felt that she was too good for them, and that 
although old man Brown was, except in the posses- 
sion of his ranch and cattle, one of themselves, 
Polly belonged to an altogether superior class of 
beings. 

All this homage had in no way spoilt her. She 
was a merry, unaffected girl, and, as she said, there 
was really no compliment in men falling in love with 
her when there were not half a dozen white women 
within a hundred miles for them to fall in love with. 
The life had not been altogether free from excite- 
ment, for when Polly was queen of the little valley, 
thirty years ago, the Indians were still troublesome 
in the western parts of Texas and in New Mexico. 
There never had been any actual outbreak in the 
neighborhood of the little valley, which lay some dis- 
tance out of the line of the Indian forays. Of late. 


98 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


however, there had been rumors of widespread dis- 
affection among the redskins. Messengers had been 
going from tribe to tribe, there had been dances and 
other threatening symptoms, and there was a gen- 
eral feeling of apprehension through all the lonely 
settlements of Texas and New Mexico. 

A party were seated round the table one evening. 
There were two guests present. The most conspicu- 
ous was a cowboy known as Wild Ned, one of the 
most frequent visitors at the ranch. Polly had re- 
fused him the year before, but he had persevered, 
and was regarded in the district as the most likely 
to gain the prize in the end. He was a good-looking 
young fellow, of three or four and twenty, tall, well 
proportioned, and strong. There was no man on the 
plain who could throw a rope with more certainty, 
or was quicker and surer with his pistol. He was 
dressed in the height of cowboy fashion. His red 
shirt was a new one; he wore a blue silk handker- 
chief knotted round his throat, and a handsome 
Mexican scarf of blue and gold round his waist. 

His wide, heavy cowboy hat, which was hanging 
on a peg on the wall, was encircled by a cord of red 
and gold, with rich bullion tassels. He wore fringed 
Mexican chaparejos or leggings, with high boots 
coming above the knees, and great silver Mexican 
spurs. There were a few who asserted that Ned was 
not clear grit, and that he had more than once backed 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


99 


down when squarely met by men who were as good 
shots as himself ; but these reports were not generally 
believed, and as he was good-natured as well as good- 
tempered, he was popular among his fellows, al- 
though he possessed a certain amount of swagger 
rare among the cowboys, who, as a whole, are, ex- 
cept when bent upon a spree, quiet and almost taci- 
turn men. 

The other visitor presented but a poor appearance 
beside the cowboy. Ben Farrell was a hunter by 
profession, and his solitary life made him almost 
necessarily a man of few words. He was two years 
senior to Wild Ned, and was dressed in a hunting- 
shirt of soft deerskin, decorated with fringes and 
Indian beads, but stained and weather-beaten. He 
wore leggings and gaiters of the same material. His 
cap, hanging by the side of the sombrero, was the 
skin of a wildcat, closely fitting to the head ; and to 
this the tail of the animal, wound round it, gave a 
not unpicturesque appearance. He was over six feet 
in height, without an ounce of superfluous flesh on 
his limbs. He hunted on the plains for deer and 
buffalo, for large troops of these animals still ranged 
the country; and among the hills for bear and the 
mountain lion or jaguar and leopard, whose skins, 
with the bounty paid for their destruction, paid him 
well whenever he was fortunate enough to fall in 
with them. 


100 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


He had been engaged in several Indian wars, and 
his knowledge of the mountains made him valuable 
as a guide to the troops. He had a very high repu- 
tation for courage, but never spoke of his exploits, 
which he regarded as very common and everyday 
affairs. He was by no means handsome; indeed, 
his face would have been plain had it not been for 
the steady, resolute look of his gray eyes and the 
kindly smile of his lips. He was one of the few who 
had never ranged themselves among Polly’s suitors, 
and yet he was never in that part of the country with- 
out paying a visit to. the ranch. Polly, in her younger 
days^ had snubbed him a little. She found it neces- 
sary to snub the visitors at the ranch, and the major- 
ity of them took it as a matter of course, and either 
defended themselves as best they could, or if discon- 
certed for the time, recovered themselves completely 
before their next visit to the ranch. 

The hunter had made no reply to her sharp sallies, 
but his manner then, and subsequently, gave Polly an 
uneasy feeling that she had hit a good deal harder 
than she had intended. She had endeavored to make 
it up to him afterwards by being specially friendly, 
and for the last two years a thorough understanding 
seemed to have been arrived at between them, and 
she chatted with him, and asked his opinion as of an 
old-established friend of the family. She knew that 
she would get the truth from him, and that he never 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY loi 


attempted a compliment, addressing her always with 
simple frankness as if she had been a younger sis- 
ter. 

“ And you really think there is going to be trouble, 
Ben?” 

I think so. The redskins are stirring like a hive 
of wild bees before swarming.” 

“ But what is it about? ” 

‘‘ It is just onquietness. It is an Indian’s nature 
to have his times of rest and his times of hunting 
or fighting. When he is on the hunting-trail or on 
the warpath, it don’t seem as if aught would tire 
him. When he is in his village he is the laziest man 
in all creation. Waal, they have been quiet now 
some three or four years, and it air time for them to 
be doing again. There is the young braves as want 
to make a name for themselves, and the old ones as 
want to show they are just as brave now as they 
used to be, and when that is so there air never much 
difficulty in finding an excuse. Either the Govern- 
ment haven’t kept faith with ’em, or their presents 
have fallen off in quality ; or there has beqn a quar- 
rel between one of their young men and some Mexi- 
can herders, or with the cowboys of the plains; or 
some of these bands that are a cuss to white men and 
red alike have made a raid and driven off some of 
their horses — there ain’t never any difficulty about 
an excuse. Then they begin to stir. The medicine- 


102 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


men see how things are going and work ’em up, and 
then runners go from tribe to tribe, till at last the 
hull lot get up to biling-pitch, and then there is trou- 
ble. There is the Apaches down south — they are 
pretty well always on the warpath agin the Mexi- 
cans; then there are the Indians of the reservations 
north of Texas ; and there are the Comanches to the 
west, and a score of other tribes scattered about. It 
is bad enough when one of them goes on the war- 
path, but when they take it together there is big 
trouble.” 

“ Waal, now, if that ain’t the longest speech as I 
ever heard you make, ‘ Hunter Ben,’ ” the cowboy 
said, laughing. “ I don’t know as I ever heard you 
say six words together afore, and I have known you, 
off and on, for three years.” 

“ There ain’t much occasion for talk when you are 
there,” the hunter replied quietly. “ I have no 
natural gifts that way, but when I am asked a ques- 
tion that wants words to answer it, I guess I can find 
them.” 

“ If the redskins dp come, I allow we shall drive 
them back pretty smartly. Miss Mary, so don’t you 
feel skeary about them.” 

‘‘ I am not likely to feel skeary, Ned,” the girl 
said, with some indignation. “ Father stood siege 
here the year before I was born, and kept them off 
for six hours till help came ; and as there are the two 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 103 

hands, and I can shoot, I think we can do the same 
again. Couldn’t we, dad ? ” 

“ I reckon so, lass ; but I don’t want them here for 
all that. I have got more thousands of cattle now 
than I had hundreds then, and even if we did beat 
the redskins off, we might lose half our beasts. Still, 
if you think there is real danger, Ben — and you are 
not one of them as makes much of nothing — I will 
have the place overhauled.” 

I would if I were you, Jim. If I were here with 
a darter and a family, and I knew the redskins were 
out, I would just fix some green hides all over the 
shingles. Fire is the thing you have got to fear. 
You have got strong walls, and stout doors and shut- 
ters, and, as your darter says, you could beat off an 
attack ; but if trouble begins, you get hides over your 
roof, and roll in a few of them big casks, so as to 
have a supply of water handy ; then they may shoot 
their fire arrows as long as they like without hurting 
you.” 

I will do that, Ben. I have got a lot of green 
hides in the shed there as I war thinking of, sending 
off, but I will keep them by me till we see how this 
thing goes. Now, mother, when you and the young 
uns have quit eating, you bring that mandolin of 
yours here, and Polly will give us a song.” 

Mrs. Brown answered from the kitchen, where she 
and the children were taking their meal — for Mexi- 


104 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


can women seldom eat with their husbands — that 
she would be in soon. Polly cleared the table, and 
then Jim Brown sat sipping his grog. The hunter 
sat quietly beside him, while Polly and Wild Ned 
sang, sometimes by turns, and sometimes together. 

“ He is a good-looking young chap, Ben,” Jim 
Brown muttered between the puffs of his pipe. “ I 
reckon them two will hitch teams some day.” 

Ben nodded silently. 

“ I reckon there ain’t no occasion for the gal to 
look out for a man with money,” the ranchman went 
on. ‘‘ She has got a tidy little herd of her own out 
on the plains, and I can give her a couple of thousand 
to start with, besides a share in this ranch.” 

Again the hunter nodded silently as he watched 
the young couple laughing and talking at the other 
end of the room. Ned is taking to the eye,” he 
said presently, ‘‘ and he has the kind of way about 
him gals would like, and everyone allows he is a 
good-natured young chap. I don’t reckon as he is 
good enough for your darter — not by a long way. 
But you see, Jim, she ain’t likely, in this valley, to 
find one that is that.” 

“ That is so, Ben. Her mother was that kind, 
and when the gal first came back I wuz a bit afeard 
as she was too good for us here, and would never 
settle down to our life. But she went right in for it 
from the first, and there ain’t a handier lass in these 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 105 

parts, though she does waste a powerful lot of time 
over them books of hers. You ain’t never thought 
of marrying yourself, Ben ? ” 

“ Not likely to think of it, Jim. I won’t deny I 
have had my fancy, but it war a foolish one. There 
ain’t nothing about me to take the eye of a young 
lass. I ain’t got either the face or the tongue to 
please them. Nature don’t give a man everything. 
To one she gives good looks and a lively tongue, such 
as she has given to Ned there. To another she gives 
a homely face and a dull tongue, but she makes up 
for it by giving him an eye that can look straight 
along the barr’l of a rifle, and the art to sarcumvent 
wild beasts; that’s been my share.” 

“ You are none so homely, Ben. I don’t say as 
you are downright good-looking, but there is a real 
pleasant, honest look about you that a gal might look 
on with pleasure. Why, there are scores of good- 
looking Mexican gals among the villages that would 
jump at you if you were to make them the offer.” 

“ That I ain’t like to do,” the hunter said quietly. 
I ain’t a word to say agin marrying out of your 
own race, for you have done it yourself, Jim, but I 
haven’t felt in no way drawn towards it. Besides, 
what should I do with a wife when I spend all my 
time hunting? No, you will never see me jined in 
matrimony; I wasn’t made for it. As long as my 
legs will carry me, and I can look straight along a 


io6 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

rifle, I shall just go on as I am. I am saving up a 
bit of money, and when the time comes as I can hunt 
no longer, I reckon I shall have enough to keep me 
as long as I have got to stop here.” 

“ Waal, it ain’t a bad life, a hunter’s,” the ranch- 
man said ; “ ye are free to come and go, ye ain’t got 
to worry about your herds, or to have troubles with 
your kids. I allow as things gets pretty well squared 
up in the end, whichever way it goes.” 

The next morning the two men mounted early. 

Waal, so long,” the ranchman said. “You will 
let us know as soon as you hear the redskins are 
fairly up.” 

“ You shall have the first news, Jim. I don’t say 
as I will come myself, because I may be wanted away 
off ; but if I can’t come I will send. But I don’t think 
you need be afeard ; they ain’t likely to begin about 
here. They will strike for the places where there are 
more scalps to be got. The blow will fall on the 
Mexican villages first. Waal, so long. Good-by, 
Miss Mary. I wouldn’t go riding about too fur 
among the hills ef I was you.” 

“ I can take care of myself, Ben,” the girl, who 
had been talking to Wild Ned, said sharply, facing 
suddenly round. 

“ As far as a gal kin, you kin. Miss Mary,” the 
hunter said quietly ; “ but no woman, and no man 
either for that, can count for much single-handed 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 107 

when the 'Paches and the Navajos are out on the 
warpath ; ” and mounting his horse, he rode down 
the valley. 

The girl stood looking after him for a moment 
with an expression of vexation upon her face ; then 
she turned and renewed her conversation with the 
cowboy. Five minutes later the latter swung into 
his saddle and went off at a canter. He soon over- 
took the hunter, and the latter quickening his pace, 
they rode down the valley together. Father and 
daughter stood looking after them, and Jim Brown 
said : 

Now, anyone would think as didn’t know them 
that horse of Ned’s, which is a showy-looking crit- 
ter, I allow, would go right away from that ’ere 
mustang of Ben’s; but it ain’t so. The mustang 
ain’t much to look at — it is an or ’nary looking beast ; 
but there ain’t a better horse on the plains when he 
is once set going. Ned’s pony might lead it for the 
first mile or two, and it would go, as they all kin, till 
nightfall, but it wouldn’t be in it with the mustang. 
I expect it got starved when it wur young; them 
Injuns are allays hard on their horses, and it has 
never put on flesh since. A man from the towns 
wouldn’t say it was worth more than what its skin 
would fetch, but it is worth a lot of money, especially 
in times when a man may have to ride for his life. 
The Comanche chief. War Eagle, wur riding it when 


io8 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

Ben fetched him out of his saddle with a bullet in that 
fight on the bluffs, and you may be sure he wouldn’t 
have been riding it if it hadn’t been reckoned the 
best belonging to the tribe. You can’t allays judge 
by looks, gal.” 

As if I didn’t know that, dad,” the girl said a 
little bitterly. “ Well, it is nothing to us which is 
the fastest ; we haven’t got to choose between 
them, have we? ” and she turned and went into the 
house. 

“Which way are you going, Ben?” Wild Ned 
said as he came up to the hunter. 

“ I am going down south. I hear there is a 
gathering of hunters and trappers and frontiersmen 
down on the Del Norte, near Socorro. If the 
Apaches come down, it is like enough to be near 
there. There won’t be any hunting in the hills till 
the troubles have begun and ended.” 

“ But I don’t see as there is much to be got out of 
fighting the redskins unless they attack you, Ben. 
They don’t pay for scalps in our days.” 

“ That is so,” the hunter agreed ; “ but if you had 
seen, as I have, villages where every man has been 
killed and every woman and child carried off by 
the ’Paches, you would feel that it was the duty of 
everyone who could shoot to do what he can to send 
them back to their hills. The Comanches are bad 
enough, but they ain’t a sarcumstance to the ’Paches. 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 109 

They will torture and kill — that air their nature — but 
they ain’t such fiends as the ’Paches.” 

“ Waal, we shall fight if they come here, you bet,” 
Wild Ned said. “ There weren’t many ranches here 
when they were out last, but they will find that two 
or three hundred cowboys are a very different thing 
to deal with to these cowardly Mexicans. Waal, I 
must quicken up, for I am due at the camp by nine 
o’clock, and I have got better’n twenty miles to ride.” 

A few days afterwards the truth of the reports 
concerning the intentions of the Indians was terribly 
verified. A score of villages in the valley of the 
Norte had been raided by the Apaches, and their 
inhabitants slaughtered or carried off; while the 
Comanches to the north had descended to the plains, 
swept off large herds of cattle, killed their cowboy 
guards, attacked several small settlements, and mas- 
sacred the inhabitants of many mountain farms. A 
Mexican runner had brought the news to Jim Brown, 
with a note from the hunter that at present the 
southern Indians were raiding the lower valley of 
the Norte, and were not likely to go so far north; 
but that he should advise that the cattle should all 
be driven out of the valley, and left to shift for 
themselves among the hills. 

‘‘ You are more likely to be troubled by the 
Comanches than by the Apaches,” he wrote, “ and 
they think more of cattle than of scalps. If I were 


no 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


you, having women and children, I should just lock 
up the ranch and take them down to one of the large 
stations on the plain. You would be safer there than 
in the valley. The redskins know there ain’t any 
plunder to be had from the cowboys, and they are 
likely to get more bullets than scalps from them.” 

“ What do you think of that, father? You surely 
would not desert the ranch ? ” 

“ I dunno, Polly ; we shall see how things go on. 
I ain’t a-goin’ to run away if there air no occasion 
for it ; but it is a plaguy lonely place, and with four 
rifles, counting yourn, we shouldn’t have any fair 
show against a band of redskins.” 

“ But the cowboys would come to our help, 
father.” 

‘‘ Aye, if they knew about it, and were handy ; but 
who is to carry news to them with the redskins all 
round the house ? And if they were strong, as I ex- 
pect they would be, it would be no good for the cow- 
boys to come if they didn’t come in force; and it 
would take two or three days to gather fifty of them, 
if they were ever so spry, and long afore that we 
might be all wiped out. When there was trouble 
before there were no white ranches within five days’ 
ride, and I was as safe here, and safer, than I should 
have been in one of the Mexican villages. Lucky it 
was only a band of about twenty of the varmints who 
came raiding here, and by the time we killed five of 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY in 


them the rest concluded that they would look for an 
easier job; but it is different now. As Ben says, we 
should be tol’able safe at one of the ranch stations, 
and I don’t want particular to have my ha’r hanging" 
in one of the redskin wigwams, nor to know as you 
was the squaw of a redskin chief, or that the kids 
were taken off to be eaten.’’ 

But they don’t eat them, father,” Polly said 
incredulously. 

Waal, I dunno for myself, gal, but the Mexicans 
are all agreed that the ’Paches and Navajos does eat 
the white kids they carry off. I have heard scores 
of stories of it, and I reckon that it is true.” 

I would rather die than be an Indian squaw,’^ 
Polly said resolutely. 

Aye, gal, so many a one has said before you, but 
you don’t always get the chance of dying. There 
are scores — aye, hundreds of white women squaws 
in the ’Pache wigwams ; and, as I don’t propose you 
shall add to the number, I reckon, if there is much 
chance of the redskins coming this way, I shall take 
the hunter’s advice.” 

Three weeks later some of the raiding Comanches 
massacred the inhabitants of a Mexican village thirty 
miles away ; and as soon as the news came Jim Brown 
loaded up his horses with the greater part of his valu- 
ables, buried what he couldn’t carry off, locked up 
house, and started with his family for the nearest 


II2 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


ranch, which was thirty-five miles away. Polly rode 
by the side of her father ; Mrs. Brown and the chil- 
dren were conveyed in a rough cart. The three men 
acted as an escort. As they passed through the little 
village at the mouth of the valley, they found that 
four of the houses were already deserted, and the 
inhabitants of the fifth were making their prepara- 
tions for a start. 

Late in the evening they arrived at the station, 
where some twenty or thirty families had gathered 
for protection, rough tents being erected close to 
their huts and stores. Jim Brown had brought some 
poles for the purpose, and with these and a number 
of cowhides two shelters were erected in a very 
short time, the cowboys at the station lending their 
assistance. Two days later Wild Ned rode into the 
station, the news of the coming of old man Brown 
and his family having reached his camp fifteen miles 
away. 

“ I am wonderful glad as you have come in, Jim,” 
he said, as he leaped from his horse. “ I have been 
worriting more than enough about you. Waal, I 
reckon you are safe here, anyhow. Thar are ten 
cowboys here, and I reckon there must be thirty 
rifles in the tents. The redskins ain’t likely to be 
fools enough to attack here, especially as we could 
gather another thirty in a day, and come down to 
help. I have got leave from the boss to exchange 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 113 


with one of the boys here. I reckon there will be no 
difficulty about that ; and then I can help to look after 
Miss Mary myself.” 

“ Miss Mary doesn’t want any looking after,” 
Polly said, coming out of the tent. “ She is quite 
capable of taking care of herself. I have told you 
that before, Ned.” 

The cowboy looked for a moment a little crest- 
fallen. ‘‘ I mean I can help with the rest. Miss 
Mary. 

“ That is better,” she said quietly. I am not the 
only one that wants protecting. There are plenty of 
other women and children here, and I dare say they 
will all be glad of your protection, Ned; ” and with 
a little toss of her head, she went back into the tent. 

The ranchman smiled. She is a little sharp this 
morning, Ned. The best of them gets so at times. 
She didn’t like coming here. I expect she doesn’t 
feel the same as when she is mistress up in the valley. 
Don’t you fret about that, lad.” 

Oh, I don’t fret,” the cowboy said good-tem- 
peredly. “ She often pitches in pretty shkrp, but 
it don’t mean nothing.” 

‘‘ That’s so, Ned ; it will be all right one of these 
days.” 

I ain’t so sartin sure about that,” the cowboy 
said, with a shadow of doubt in his face. “ She said 
‘ No ’ mighty positive a year ago. I ain’t asked her 


1 14 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

agin, though I have been on the edge of it twenty 
times.” 

“ I reckon it is all right, Ned. Gals never know 
their own minds at first. Anyhow, there ain’t no 
one else, and you know you have got me on your 
side.” 

“ Waal, I reckon so sometimes, Jim, and then 
sometimes I don’t. Sometimes she is just as nice 
as can be, and then agin she snaps me up short as you 
like. Now, the other day, up at your place, I thought 
it wur all right. You see’d yourself how pleasant 
she wur with me, and I would have spoken then, only 
there were that hunter chap about, and somehow 
she never gived me a chance of being alone with her. 
Now, to-day she is just ready to jump down my 
throat. Blamed if I can make out women ! ” 

The reports as to the Indian raids came in thick 
and fast, and orders were sent out that afternoon for 
the men at the outlying camps to drive the herds 
into the central station, and in three days some forty 
thousand animals were collected within a radius of 
four miles of the station, and thirty cowboys were 
gathered there, these keeping a. constant watch night 
and day round the cattle. The most valuable 
animals had been picked out and driven into the large 
fenced inclosure near the station, together with all 
the best horses. The arrangement was that if the 
Indians appeared in numbers not above a hundred, 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 115 

the cowboys and those g-athered at the station would 
go out to fight them ; but if the band were too numer- 
ous for this, ten of the cowboys were, directly the 
scouts brought in the news, to drive the whole of the 
cattle at full speed south, breaking them up and 
stampeding them as far as possible, while the rest 
were to gather and defend the station. 

That evening the hunter rode in. He picketed 
his horse, and then, having inquired for Jim Brown’s 
tent, walked quietly across. Polly was sitting on a 
box at its entrance, working. Mrs. Brown was, as 
usual, cooking, and the children were playing about. 

Well, Ben, so you are back again,” Polly said as 
he came quietly up. I thought you were fighting 
down by the river.” 

So I have been, Miss Mary. We have had two 
skirmishes with the ’Paches. Once they attacked a 
village where we had gone one evening, guessing 
they were likely to come that way, and we drove 
them off pretty quick. Next time we weren’t so 
lucky. They took us by surprise when we were 
camping. The two sleepy-headed Mexican guards 
gave us no warning, and they were upon us afore 
we had fairly got our arms in our hands. There 
were sixteen of us, and twelve of us got wiped out. 
I knew the place, and managed to lie hid among some 
rocks till they had gone. In the morning those of 
us as was left went down to the settlements. There 


ii6 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

I heard as the Comanches was out strong here ; so, 
as our band was broken up, I guessed I would come 
around and look after things. I have got a good 
few skins up at my hut in the mountains and a keg 
of powder, and some other things as I would not care 
to lose; so I reckoned to go up and stow them all 
safely away.’’ 

“ And did you find them all safe, Ben ? ” 

The hunter colored under his tanned skin. 

Waal, I haven’t been there yet, Miss Mary.” 

No ! Why, it would have been on your way here 
— at least, not far out of your way. You told me 
your place was about thirty miles to the south of 
our ranch.” 

“ That is so,” the hunter admitted ; “ but I kinder 
thought I would come on here and larn for myself 
how matters stood afore I went up into the hills. I 
was thinking of making for the ranch, but I met 
some boys ten miles away, and they told me as your 
father had come down here, so I guessed I might as 
well see him afore I struck out fresh.” 

“ You might have said my father and me, Ben. 
It would have sounded more ciyil.” 

It weren’t necessary. Miss Mary. You know 
that without my saying it. I wanted to see as all 
my friends was safe and well. You counts in that, 
I reckon.” 

The girl nodded. I know that, Ben. I know 



“ WHAT IS IT, MISS MARY? 

Redskins and Colonists, 


ANYTHING THE MATTER? 


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THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


117 

that I have no better friend than you. Well, what 
do you think — that there is any fear of attack? ” 

“ They mout try a surprise, and they mout not. 
I hear as the Beaver’s party is over five hundred 
strong*, and the Little Owl has almost as many; but 
the Indians don’t like throwing away lives if they 
can help it, and they know well enough to take this 
station would cost them at least a hundred braves. 
It ain’t as if there was plunder to be got. There 
ain’t nothing but scalps, and they can get them a sight 
easier and cheaper in the villages and Mexican towns. 
So there ain’t no reason on arth why they should 
attack this station, except from pure, downright cus- 
sedness. You’ve always got to reckon on that when 
you are calculating what redskins will do. They will 
sweep off a lot of cattle ; there ain’t much doubt about 
that. But they are more likely to do it when they 
have finished their raids, and have got their plunder 
and their captives. Then, like enough, they will 
sweep down here, and take every head of cattle they 
can lay hand on, and drive them away before them 
up to the mountains.” 

And what do you think of doing, Ben ? ” 

‘‘ If I thought that there was a chance of a fight I 
would stay here. Miss Mary; but as my idees are 
quite the other way, I don’t see any good in my stay- 
ing, and I may be of some use in the hills. I know 
the paths the varmints are most likely to take, and if 


ii8 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

I see a village burning, can guess pretty sure where 
they will go to next, and maybe get there in time to 
warn them. I suppose Ned is here? ” 

“ Yes; he came in here yesterday, early.” 

I am glad of that,” he said simply. ‘‘ You must 
have been feeling lonesome without your work, and 
it is best that you should have someone to talk to.” 

“ Oh, I have plenty to talk to, Ben,” she said, with 
a little toss of her head. “ Why, you know, I know 
nearly every hand on this ranch. There are gen- 
erally two or three of them round here. I should be 
just as well pleased if there wasn’t.” 

Well, then^ I shall be moving off,” Ben said, 
taking up his rifle. 

“ You know that wasn’t meant for you, Ben,” she 
said earnestly. “ You can talk sense, and you are 
not always paying me empty compliments, as if a 
girl cared to hear nothing talked about but herself. 
Ah, here comes father and Ned.” 

“ Howdy, Ben ? ” the ranchman said heartily. I 
am glad you have come. I was a-thinking of going 
over to see how things are getting on in the valley. 
Do you think it would be safe ? The redskins burnt 
Manta last night, we hear.” 

‘‘ That is fifteen miles away to the back of your 
place, Jim. There ain’t no saying where they may 
strike next; there are a hull line of villages from 
there down to El Norte. They may work that way, 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


1 19 

or, again, they may work down through the hills. 
There are a good many clumps of cattle besides yours 
in the valleys. If they come that way, it is like 
they will break up into a dozen bands; they know 
there is no force anywhere up there to stop them. 
Down by the river every man has got his arms ready, 
and they have got up a sort of militia, though I don’t 
see that there is anything that could «top the Coman- 
ches if they wanted to go right down to El Paso. 
But they won’t be likely to do that, for that comes 
more under the ’Paches’ district, and there ain’t much 
love lost between the Comanches and ’Paches, though 
at present they have both dug up the hatchet against 
us and the Mexicans.” 

“ I think it likely that they will work this way, 
Ben. They must have got a grist of plunder by this 
time, and will be wanting to go back and show off 
before their own squaws, and they will sweep all the 
cattle they can get before them. I wish now I had 
gone back myself with the men as soon as I had got 
the old woman and Polly here. Then we could have 
drove the cattle right up among the hills to' places 
where the redskins wouldn’t find them without a 
sharper search than they will have time to give. I 
have half a mind to set off at once and do it. We 
have been away five days now, and they will have 
drifted back into the valley ; and if the redskins come 
down they will get the hull lot of them.” 


120 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


“ I will go with you, Jim,” Wild Ned said. It’s 
better’n being shut up here with nothing to do but to 
stay and watch over the herd. The boss will let me 
go when he hears what I am going for. We may 
get some news.” 

“ But don’t you mistake, Jim,” the hunter said, 
you have got to be careful ; there ain’t no saying 
where the redskins may be prowling about.” 

“ I know all about them,” the ranchman said ; “ I 
have fought them a score of times afore you were 
born, Ben, and I reckon I know them.” 

' I didn’t mean as I was going to teach you, but 
only that it wur a job that should be undertaken 
cautious, and not gone into without careful consid- 
eration. I don’t speak for the sake of my own scalp, 
which ain’t of no importance to anyone but myself ; 
but it is different with you, seeing that you have a 
wife, and a darter, and kids, and Ned here is young, 
and there is doubtless those as would be sorry to see 
him go under.” 

I think it would be much better not to go, dad,” 
Polly said. ‘‘ I dare say the cows 'will do well 
enough.” 

“ Nonsense, gal ; thar air no danger in it.” 

“ Well, you wouldn’t like to take me with you, 
dad, would you ? ” ’ j 

“ I ain’t going to take you, Polly, so you needn’t \ 
try to get round me. I don’t say that there would be \ 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 121 

any actual danger for you ; but if there was you to 
look after, Ned wouldn’t be of no use to the cows, 
and it would give us all kinds of trouble.” 

‘‘ Well, when are you thinking of starting, Jim? ” 
the cowboy asked. 

It is too late to go this afternoon. We will start 
two hours before daylight.” 

“ All right ; I will be ready. And you, Ben? ” 

The hunter nodded silently. 

That evening while Jim Brown and Ned were talk- 
ing together, Polly stole away as she saw the hunter 
standing at a fire a short distance away. He was 
surprised when she came up to him. 

“What is it. Miss Mary? Anything the mat- 
ter?” 

“ There is nothing the matter, Ben, only I wanted 
to talk with you. You think this expedition is fool- 
ish, do you not ? ” 

“ No; I shouldn’t say that. Miss Mary. No, not 
at all. I allow that it’s reasonable your father should 
want to get the cattle into as safe a position as he 
kin, seeing that the redskins are in the hills; but 
it ought to be done judgmatically. Your father has 
been an Indian fighter in his time ; but that is a good 
time back, and he has got out of the way of being 
quite as keerful as men should be when there are 
redskins out on the warpath. Then, having Ned 
with us don’t make it better. I don’t say nought 


122 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


against Ned — you believe that — but he is young and 
venturesome, and he knows nothing of redskin ways, 
and he air a little — just a little. Miss Mary — fond of 
having his own way. There ain’t a good-natureder 
young chap on the plains, I allows up to that ; but he 
is inclined to reckon the Indians too low, and that is 
wrong, for they air good fighters. They are wicked 
and cruel and deceitful, but they kin fight in their 
way. I would rather have had an older man with 
us, such as one of them I have been out with down 
on the Norte. Still, I don’t see as there is anything 
for you to make yourself oneasy about ; we shall get 
through it straight enough.” 

“ Well, you will look after dad; won’t you, Ben? ” 

‘‘I will. Miss Mary; and after Ned, too. I will 
bring them back safe to you ef I come back myself.” 

Polly threw back her head a little, and seemed as 
if she was about to speak ; then she changed her mind, 
and remained silent for a minute or two. 

“And you will take care of yourself too, Ben?” 
she said earnestly. “ I know I am cross with you 
sometimes, but I have things to bother me, and I am 
always sorry for it afterwards. You know how 
grieved I should be if anything were to happen to 
you.” 

“ Thank you for that,” he said quietly; “ it is good 
of you to say so. I will look out for myself. I 
know their ways, and they won’t catch me asleep. 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


123 


Don’t you get worrying yourself ; it is more like as 
not that we shan’t see a redskin afore we are back.” 

The next morning the three men mounted. They 
took with them some cooked meat and bread, so as 
not to have to cook during the day. Polly was up 
to see them off. 

Be back before night if you can, father.” 

I don’t think there is much chance of that, gal. 
We have got thirty miles to go, and I reckon we 
shall have a hard day’s work among the cattle, and 
it ain’t reasonable to expect us to start off again at 
the end of a long day’s work. What I reckon is, 
we shall get the cattle hid away among the hills 
before nightfall, then we shall camp up there, and 
start as soon as it is light down to the plains, and 
you may expect to see us in by nine or ten o’clock. 
Tell your mother we are like to have good appetites 
when we come in.” 

“ Well, good-by, father,” the girl said. ‘‘ Good- 
by, Ned. Good-by, Ben. I look to you to take care 
of them.” 

‘‘ One would think we was kids, you and me, 
Ned,” the ranchman said, with a laugh, as they 
galloped off. ‘‘ Polly ain’t used to be skeary, but 
she is set against this ride, and I think she was vexed 
because I wouldn’t take her with us.” 

“ Which way do you mean to head, Jim? ” Beu 
asked. 


124 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


‘‘ Why, straight for the ranch. Where on arth 
should I head?” 

“ Waal, if I was you, Jim, I shouldn’t. It may 
be as them ’ere redskins are there now, or there may 
be some up among the hills ; and if they saw us com- 
ing, they would ambush us sure enough. It would 
be more prudent if we was to make for the foothills, 
seven or eight miles to the south; then if any of 
them saw us they would think we was going up 
another valley. We can ride along through the 
woods without much chance of being seen, and 
get to some spot where we can look down into your 
valley and see that it is all clear.” 

‘‘ Waal, maybe that would be the best plan, Ben,” 
the ranchman said; although Wild Ned, who was 
riding on the other side of them, grumbled out some 
remonstrance as to the uselessness of riding ten or 
twelve miles more than was necessary. After this 
little was said until the morning broke. 

“ Don’t see no Injin signs, Ben? ” Ned asked, with 
a laugh, as he saw the hunter closely scanning the 
hills after the sun had risen. 

Not much chance of that, Ned, onless they was 
a good deal more keerless than redskins generally 
air when they air on the warpath. Those hills 
might be full of them without our getting a glimpse; 
but of one thing you may be sartain, that if there 
are any of them thar, they are watching us sharply 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 12s 

enough now, and reckoning up who we air and where 
we are going. If I was you, Jim, I would go at a 
walk now till we reach the hills. We have gone a 
good five-and-twenty miles, and if there should be 
redskins in the hills, we shall have to ride powerful 
smart, you bet.” 

This suggestion was adopted, and the ranchman 
even proposed before they reached the trees at the 
foot of the hills to halt for half an hour, and loosen 
the girths and let the horses have a bite. 

‘‘ You are so consarned careful, Ben,” he said,.. 
‘‘ that you make one feel pretty nigh skeary.” 

‘‘ There is no reason for that, Jim, but till we are 
sure that the redskins ain’t about it is just as well to 
be careful. I haven’t no more reason than you have- 
for suspecting they are here, but, as we agreed yester- 
day, it is just as likely they will have crossed here- 
from Manta as gone on any farther.” " 

After half an hour’s halt they again proceeded, 
and on gaining the trees turned to the left and skirted 
the foot of the hills, until they arrived near the 
mouth of the valley where Jim Brown’s ranch was 
situated. 

Now, ef you will wait here with the horses, Jim, 
I will make up the hill and have a look down on to 
the ranch. Ef everything is quiet I will come back 
to ye.” 

In half an hour he returned. 


126 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


“ There air no signs of the redskins, Jim. As you 
expected, a big lot of the cattle have come down.” 

Mounting again, he rode on with the other two 
men to the deserted houses of the little village, and 
then turned on into the valley. There were no signs 
that anyone had visited the ranch since it was left, 
• and they were soon at work driving the cattle to- 
■ gether. 

“ We will take this herd first over the divide. The 
next valley is a deal narrower than this, and as thar 
are no houses, and a heap of trees, the redskins ain’t 
likely to be going down there; and if they did, the 
cattle would scatter and get into the woods, and a lot 
of them would escape anyhow.” 

After taking these cattle to the spot Jim had sug- 
gested, they went back to the valley, and took 
another herd in quite a different direction into the 
hills, driving them far into a ravine running towards 
the heart of the mountain. 

“ There ain’t any entrance from the other end,” 
Jim said. “ I reckon that they are safe enough here, 
-and they will be some days before they find their way 
back again. Now, lads, we have only one more lot 
to drive away, and there is a place I know of in the 
hills south there which is as good as this.” 

It was afternoon when they at last returned into 
the valley. Then the ranchman said, “We have got 
two or three hours of light yet; there is lots of 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


12 / 


bunches of cattle among the hills hereabout, and 
they will be coming down in a day or two, so we had 
best drive them a bit back. Look here, Ben, this ain’t 
your trade; I will take the right, and Ned will take 
the left. 

“ Yer might just as well look round with yer gun. 
The boys told me the day before we left there were 
two b’ars in that gulch up at the head of the valley. 
I should have gone for them ef it hadn’t been for 
the redskins. While we are driving them clumps of 
cattle away a bit farther, yer might just 'as well have 
a talk with them there b’ars if they are still there. 
Their flesh would make a change out at camp, and I 
guess the skins will pay you for taking off.” 

“ You will be back before it is dark, Jim? ” 

Aye, aye.” 

‘‘ Where do you mean to camp? ” 

“ Why, we have got the ranch, haven’t we? ” 

'‘I wouldn’t sleep there, Jim; much better camp 
away off.” 

What ! have yer still got the redskins in yer mind,. 
Ben ? I thowt you had got rid of that. They ain’t 
here, and I ain’t going to do any dodging about ; I 
am going to sleep in my own house.” 

With a silent resolution that, whatever the ranch- 
man might do, he himself would not sleep there, Ben 
prepared to start on his shooting expedition. Before 
he did so, however, he took his horse half a mile 


128 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


■down towards the mouth of the valley, and tied him 
up in a thick clump of bushes ; then he started up the 
valley. Occasionally he could hear the shouts of his 
two companions high up on the hillside. He shook 
his head disapprovingly. “ The old man might have 
known better than to be yelling so that he could be 
heard a kipple of miles away, when the In jins are 
«€Ut.’' 

A mile and a half above the ranch lay the gorge 
♦of which Jim Brown had spoken. It seemed to have 
been cut in old times by a side stream which had 
made its way down from one of the shoulders of the 
main valley. As soon as he entered, the hunter’s at- 
tention became devoted solely to his work; he ex- 
-amined his rifle, took out his Colt and saw that it 
contained its six charges, and loosened the long 
bowie-knife in his belt — for bears when wounded are 
formidable opponents, and unless he killed one at 
the first shot, he might have the two on him at once. 
It was not long before he found prints of their feet, 
and he was making up the gorge with noiseless foot- 
steps, his eyes examining every rock and bush keenly 
•as he went, when he suddenly stopped short, raised 
himself from his stooping position and listened in- 
tently, gave a low exclamation, and then, turning, 
ran back at full speed until he reached a spot where 
he could see along into the valley. He sprang up 
among some fallen rocks, and crouched down behind 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 129' 

them. He had scarcely taken his station when a 
troop of Indians dashed down the valley. 

Comanches, by thunder ! ” he muttered ; “ fifty 
of them, if there is a man. Well, well, I thought 
trouble was coming of this job, and the redskins can’t 
help hearing them loonatics yelling at the cattle.”* 
He stood for half a minute. “ The old man is on 
this side,” he said; “I must warn him first.” He 
knew that at the upper end of the gorge there was a. 
spot where one of the sides sloped away, and it was. 
possible to climb up. Rifle in hand, he ran up the 
ravine. When he got near the end there was a sud^ 
den growl, and a large cinnamon bear raised him- 
self among the rocks. 

You may thank your stars,” Ben said as he ran 
on without heeding the animal, ” that I wasn’t here 
a quarter of an hour earlier ; it saved your hide, and 
maybe it saved my scalp, for those varmints would. 
have heard the rifle.” 

He reached the spot where the ravine suddenly 
widened out and the left side fell away gradually.. 
It was a stiff climb and a long one, but the hunter’s 
sinews were like steel, and though his breath came 
quickly, his step never faltered nor his pace slackened 
until he reached the top. He was now far up on the 
hillside, and commanded a view over several of the 
minor spurs. On the brow of one of these, a mile 
and a half away, he caught sight of a clump of cattle 


130 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

g-ping at a trot, with a mounted figure behind 
them. 

‘‘ That is Ned,” he said; “he couldn’t see down 
the valley if he wanted, and it ain’t likely he will 
ever think of looking. They will catch him, sure, if 
he don’t mind. I have more hopes of Jim. I reckon 
he is about a mile away to the left. If I can get there 
afore the Injuns, we can hide till after it is dark, or 
at least I will get him to hide while I cut across and 
try to warn Ned.” 

He proceeded at a run in the direction in which he 
thought the ranchman might be found. Once or 
twice a faint shout came to his ears. 

“Oh, my!” he muttered to himself, “he is just 
calling to the redskins to come and raise his ha’r. 
There is one thing, there won’t be many of them; 
the band is gone to camp down by the ranch, and 
only a few of the young braves, who want to dis- 
tinguish themselves, will go off for the scalps.” 

The hillsides were for the most part bare, al- 
though there were occasional patches of wood and 
hush. As he emerged from one of these he saw on 
a slope, half a mile from him, three Indians riding at 
full gallop. A moment later they had passed behind 
a clump of trees. 

“ He is a bit above them yet, I think,” the hunter 
said as he sprang forward at the top of his speed. 
Five minutes later, as he was turning up the next 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 13 1 

rise, he heard a rifle-shot a few hundred yards away;, 
then came a wild Indian yell, and then the sound of a 
horse galloping at full speed. It was coming towards 
him. He ran up to the brow, and just as he reached 
it Jim Brown came along. 

“ I am here, Jim,’' he exclaimed ; '' we will talk to 
them now.” 

“ Thank God for that ! They are close behind me^ 
I can’t help yer ; I am hit. They have done for me 
this time. I think you were right arter all.” As he; 
spoke the ranchman fell heavily from his horse. Ben 
snatched up his rifle, and threw himself down. A 
moment later the head and shoulders of an Indian 
appeared over the brow. He gave a yell of triumph 
as he saw the horse standing without a rider, but an 
instant later the hunter’s rifle flashed out, and the^ 
Indian fell from his horse, shot through the brain. 
Close behind him were his two companions. They 
reined in their horses, but it was too late ; the hunter 
caught up the other rifle and fired. Another saddle 
was vacant ; the third Indian rode off at full speed. 

Ben at once turned to the ranchman. He was in- 
sensible. Ben knelt beside him, and searched for his 
wound. He had been shot from behind. There was 
a dark patch of blood just above the hip. 

It may be mortal, and it may not,” Ben said ; 
‘‘but it will be all the same whether it is or not 
if I don’t get him out of here pretty smart. That 


132 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


fellow will be back again with a score of others in 
:a bit over half an hour.” 

Jim Brown was a big-framed and heavy man, and, 
strong as he was, the hunter had difficulty in raising 
him and laying him across the saddle. Then he slung 
the two guns over his shoulder, and holding the 
wounded man in his place with one hand, took the 
reins in the other and started. In a quarter of an 
hour he reached the spot where he had ascended from 
the ravine. A hundred yards from the edge he lifted 
the ranchman on to his shoulder, then he struck the 
horse sharply, and it went off at a gallop. The ra- 
wine had rather a sharp fall, and from the spot where 
Ben stood no one unacquainted with the country 
would have guessed that there was a break in the 
hillside. No rain had fallen for some time, and the 
ground was baked hard. There was but little vege- 
tation at this point, and Ben, as he walked, stepped 
carefully so as not to tread upon tufts of grass, tak- 
ing advantage of every spot where the rock showed 
above the thin coating of soil. 

‘‘ They would soon find the tracks,” he said to 
himself, “if they had daylight, but by the time they 
overtake the horse the sun will have set.” 

It required great care and caution to descend into 
the ravine, burdened as he was, but he reached the 
bottom at last, passed the spot where he had seen the 
hear, and halted in a clump of trees. Then he poured 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


133 


some spirits and water, from the flask the ranchman 
carried, between his lips, and presently Jim Brown 
opened his eyes. 

Hallo ! where am I ? ” he asked faintly. 

You are all safe down in the ravine where you 
sent me for the bears. It is .^fetting dark already, 
-and I don’t think the redskins will find our trail.” 

How in thunder did you manage to turn up there 
in the hills just when I was done for? ” 

The hunter told him how he had seen the Indians 
pass down the valley, and had at once set out to warn 
him. ‘‘ I shot two of the skunks, Jim, but the other 
got away. Thar’s one thing, I don’t think he can 
have an idea there is two of us. I guess they saw 
that they had wounded you, and all he can have 
sighted were the boss and just a glimpse of my head. 
Anyway, they won’t trouble to search much to-night. 
They will make pretty sure of getting your scalp in 
the morning.” 

“ Waal, the best thing you can do, Ben, is to make 
tracks. I have got my revolver in my belt, and can 
finish off one or two of them when they come in the 
morning; and I will keep a barr’I for myself. They 
may scalp me ef they please, but I’d rather they 
didn’t do it while I were alive.” 

You don’t suppose I am going to make tracks and 
leave you ? ” Ben said reproachfully. ‘‘ I must figure 
out what I am going to do ; but you may be sure it 


134 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


won’t be that. My idee was, when I had warned 
you, to strike across and get at Wild Ned ; but it is 
too late for that altogether. I reckon they have got 
him afore this.” He sat for some time thinking. 
“ The best thing as I can see, Jim, is to wait till it is 
quite dark. Unfortunately, it is full-moon to-night, 
and she will be getting up now that the sun has gone 
down, and it will be pretty nigh as light as day out 
on the plains. However, I must manage to get down 
near the ranch, and hear what has become of Ned, 
and whether there is any chance of getting him away 
— that is, if they didn’t tomahawk him when they 
caught him, as is like enough. They are sure to keep- 
a pretty sharp lookout at the end of the valley, for 
they knows as we have a strong force on the plains. 
Still in course, one can get through them. I shall 
make for the camp, and bring the cowboys out. I 
reckon I can do the thirty miles in less nor five hours, 
and we can be back here afore daybreak ; then we will 
chaw up the redskins and fetch you out.” 

“ It ain’t likely you will do it, Ben, but it air the 
best thing to try — that is, if it is worth risking your 
life when, likely as not, I mayn’t be alive in the morn- 
ing. Where am I hit, lad? It was in the back, I 
know, but I seems to feel the pain most in front.” 

“ You were hit about half-way between the hip 
and the spine, Jim ; and I expect the bullet has gone 
pretty nigh through, and like enough it has gone 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


135 


out. Yes, by gosh ! here is a blood-mark just on your 
waistband. Now, the first thing to do is to make a 
shift to stop the bleeding.” 

Taking off his cap, he pulled off a considerable 
quantity of fur, then he loosened the ranchman’s belt, 
and turned up the hunting shirt. Then he placed a 
wad of the fur over each of the bullet-holes, tore off 
several strips from the shirt, and knotting them to- 
gether, made a bandage, wound this round and round 
Jim’s body, and then again fastened the belt over it. 
By the time he had finished this it was almost dark 
down at the bottom of the ravine. 

“ Now I must hoist you up into a tree, Jim.” 

What in thunder do you want to do that for ? ” 
‘‘ Them two b’ars, Jim. I saw one of them as I 
came up, and he is a big un. Maybe after they was 
disturbed they have gone off, but if they are here still 
they will scent the blood, sure.” 

“ Waal, if they must they must, Ben ; but I could 
never a-bear sitting up in a tree. You take me a 
bit farther down, and put me up lying down on the 
rocks by the side of the slope, so as they can’t get at 
me from behind. There is my six-shooter, and I 
will take my chance with that. It ain’t much harm 
if the Indians should hear the shots ; they won’t stir 
from their fires for that, except to keep a watch 
against surprise. Besides, b’ars don’t often attack 
onless you disturb them. No, no; I shall do very 


136 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

well, Ben. Waal, lad, ef you get down to the camp, 
and don’t get back in time, do what you can for Polly 
and the old woman and the kids. You may set it 
down that Ned has gone under. It will be hard on 
Polly to lose us both, but I know you will lend them 
a hand to keep things straight for a while, and Polly 
won’t have any need to w^ait long. I thought some- 
times But there, that ain’t no matter now.” 

Upon Ben’s trying to move his companion, the 
ranchman declared that the pain was so great that 
he would take his chance where he was. 

“ One place is as safe as another, Ben,” he said. 
‘‘ The b’ars can climb over the stones easier than you 
can carry me. I am all right as I lie here. That is 
right ; I have got the gun and the Colt and the flask 
all ready to hand. Now it is dark enough for you to 
be off ; it is darker than when the moon gets higher.” 

“ Well, good-by, Jim; ef I am alive, I will be back 
agin for ye before morning. First, I am going to 
find out about Ned;- and you know I am bound to 
get him out for your darter’s sake, if it is possible 
to be done. I ain’t more of a coward than others, 
I hope, but I don’t know as I could face her with the 
news as Wild Ned was dead and you hit considerable 
bad, while I hadn’t as much as a scratch to show; 
and arter her telling me that she trusted to me to 
look arter you both. Well, here goes. God bless 
you, Jim, ef I don’t see you again.” 


CHAPTER II 


Two or three fires were burning in the valley in 
front of the ranch, and the Indians were cooking 
meat, cut from a freshly killed bullock, over the 
flames. ,To a tree a short distance away Wild Ned 
was fastened by ropes. He had been taken by sur- 
prise. The Indians, who had gone off in search of 
him, had concealed themselves, and as, after driving 
the cattle well up into the hills, he was returning to 
the valley, a rope fell over his shoulders, and he was 
jerked from his saddle before he knew that there was 
danger at hand, and then brought down captive to 
the ranch. He arrived there just as the horseman 
rode in and told how his two comrades had been 
shot, and a dozen Indians were mounting and dash- 
ing off to avenge them. 

Ned, after being abused and threatened, was tied 
to a tree, his fate for the present a minor considera- 
tion. It was dark before the Indians returned. As 
no yell of triumph announced their approach, Ned 
guessed that his companions had not been captured 
or killed. Being ignorant of the native language, 
he knew nothing of what had passed, but from the 
•excitement that had been manifested by the horse- 


137 


138 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


men who rode away, and the anger of the others, 
he felt sure that either Jim Brown had got away al- 
together, or that he had successfully defended him- 
self. 

Wild Ned was physically brave. Had he been 
surrounded by a score of Indians he would have 
fought desperately until he fell; but helpless and 
alone in their midst, and knowing perfectly well that 
his death was a question of hours, if not of minutes, 
his courage oozed away. 

He was, as had been whispered of him, not clear 
grit.” His was the bravery that comes of health and 
strength and a confidence of skill with weapons, a 
courage of the active rather than the passive kind. 
There was no bravado in the confidence with which 
he had anticipated a fight with the Indians, and had 
he been attacked with his two companions beside 
him, and with time to get out his weapons, he would 
have fought and died like a hero. Bound, powerless, 
alone with the . certainty of a death of torture and 
agony staring him in the face, he was utterly ,un-i 
nerved and terror-stricken ; cold shudders ran 
through him as he watched the Indians moving round 
their fires, and wondered when they were going to 
begin with him. If they would but tomahawk him 
and have done with it, he would not mind; it was 
the torture he dreaded. 

The many tales of Indian cruelty he had heard 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 139 

passed one after another through his mind, until he 
almost seemed to feel the knife, the burning splinters 
in his flesh, and the flames of the fire in which he 
would finally perish. The Indians, apparently, paid 
no attention to him, but he was sure that he was 
watched ; and besides, he was so tightly bound that 
the slightest movement was impossible. Two hours 
passed without a stir. The Indians were seated round 
their fires, talking in low tones. They were not more 
than twenty yards away from him, and from time 
to time fresh wood was thrown on the fires, the fur- 
niture of the ranch having been broken up for the 
purpose. 

Presently he heard a low “ Hush ! ” behind him, 
and then the words, ‘‘ Don’t you move, Ned, for your 
life. I am here.” The tree was a little more than a 
foot in diameter, and the words were whispered al- 
most into his ear. 

“ For God’s sake, cut my cords, Ben,” he whis- 
pered. Give me a weapon, and let me have a chance 
of fighting for my life among those red devils.” 

The agitation with which he spoke showed the 
hunter how completely his nerves had given way. 

“ All right, Ned ; we must not hurry this business. 
We have got to talk first. Old Jim is badly wounded, 
and he is lying in that gulch where I went after the 
b’ars, to the right, at the head of the valley. Now 
you bear that in mind. Now, lookee, Ned, my idee 


140 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


is this. Your life is worth a sight more’n mine. You 
have to look arter Jim’s darter and the old man his- 
self, while I ain’t got nothing particular to do, and 
no one to care whether I am rubbed out or not. More 
nor that, I promised the gal to look arter ye, and 
I am going to keep my word. Presently I am going 
to cut your ropes. When I do, you just slip quiet 
round the tree, and I will take your place. Then you 
move off, keeping in the shadow of the tree, as quiet 
as you can ; there are a lot of other trees, you know, 
just behind you. When you get through them make 
down the valley. Half a mile along you will find my 
horse tied up in the middle of some bushes. The 
redskins haven’t found him ; and they haven’t an idee 
there were more nor the two of yer here. You take 
him and lead him straight up the hill, behind the 
bushes. There is a bit of a hollow there — I noticed 
it when I tied him up — and I don’t think you could 
be seen by the redskins down at the mouth of the val- 
ley. When you are over the rise, make down to the 
plain, keep along at the foot of the hills for a mile 
or more before you strike out, then make for the sta- 
tion as hard as you can, and bring the cowboys back 
with yer. Bring them back the same way you go, for 
they have got scouts out on the plain, and they would 
see you coming, with this moon up, two miles away ; 
so you must work along by the foot of the hills until 
you get near the place, then let half of them dismount 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 141 

and come up over the hill behind you, and the others 
ride down to the mouth of the valley. The moment 
the alarm is given, the lot here must run down and 
fall on them, and hold them till the lot on horses 
come up ; that way they won’t get time to knock me 
on the head. There is old Hickman at the station; 
he has done a lot of Indian fighting in his time, and 
you had better take him as leader.” 

But why shouldn’t we go together? ” Ned asked. 
“ I can’t go and leave you here.” 

‘‘We can’t go together, because afore we had gone 
twenty yards you would be missed, and we should 
both be wiped out instead of one. You just do as 
I tell you. I know redskin ways, and you don’t. I 
tell yer, Ned, I have got to save yer, or else to die 
with yer. I have told the old man I couldn’t face 
his gal and tell her you had both gone under, and 
that I had a whole skin. Ef you are sharp, you will 
be back here in time to save me; but remember, 
ef you makes the least noise as you goes from here 
you throw away both our lives. You have got to 
lay down and ter crawl along the ground till you are 
fair away. Feel the ground ahead of you each time 
afore you makes a move, for ef yer break a twig it 
is your death-warrant. Now, do you quite under- 
stand? I am going to wait a few minutes till the 
fires have burnt quite low, and then, when you see 
they are going to throw on more wood, I will cut 


143 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


the rope. You keep your eye on them, and the 
moment you see that not one of them is looking- at 
yer, slip round the tree, and I will take your place. 
Don’t you stop to fight if you hear them yell, but 
make straight off. I shall bolt another way. Any- 
how, you tell Miss Mary that I did all I could to 
keep my promise, and if the old man was hit, it 
wurn’t my fault. You will find my rifle and Colt at 
the foot of the tree, and the ammunition. Mind you 
don’t make a sound as yer take them up. I am going 
to keep my hunting knife. Now the fires are getting 
low, so I will eut the ropes. Don’t yer move a finger 
till you are right sure no one is looking at you ; then 
slip round, and I will be in your place as yer leave.” 

I don’t like ” 

Never mind what you like,” Ben said in a fierce 
whisper; just do as you are told. Ef you and the 
old man had done as I told you at first, you wouldn’t 
both be in this scrape.” The rope that went from 
one wrist to the other behind the tree suddenly re- 
lapsed, and then that round his waist. 

“ Now then,” Ben said a minute later, “ no one is 
looking now.” Almost mechanically Ned followed the 
instructions. At any other time he would absolutely 
have refused to permit another to sacrifice himself 
for him, but the two hours of agonized despair he 
had suffered had crushed his spirit and taken his 
manhood out of him, and in a moment he stood 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 143 

behind the tree. He snatched up the pistol and 
rifle, and then stood motionless ; not a sound met his 
ear but the low murmur of the talk by the fire. It 
was evident that the exchange had not been noticed. 
He was almost disappointed. Now that he had arms 
in his hands fresh life seemed to spring through his 
veins, and he felt ready enough to rush out and 
fight to the last ; but as all remained quiet he dropped, 
after a moment’s irresolution, on his knees and 
crawled away. Ben stood, his whole senses absorbed 
in listening. Five minutes passed, and he breathed 
more easily. Ned must now be beyond the clump 
of trees, and should be safe.” 

He had adopted exactly the attitude in which the 
other had been standing, with his head falling for- 
ward, and his arms bent half round the tree behind. 
He had noticed that more than once the Indians had 
glanced towards the tree, and they had not detected 
the change. The two men were about the same 
height; both wore red shirts, for Ben had dropped 
off the leather hunting-shirt he wore over the other 
before he approached the tree. The cowboy’s high 
boots had been pulled off before he had been tied 
up, and his gaudy waist-scarf appropriated by one of 
the Indians; there was little, therefore, to show at 
a short distance that any change had taken place. 

Ben had expressed a confident trust that Ned 
would return with help in time to save him, but, in 


144 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


reality, he felt but little hope that it would be so. 
Upon first seeing the cowboy fastened to the tree, 
he had been surprised that the Indians should have 
delayed the work of torture. Still, he knew that the 
redskins are in all matters deliberate, and supposed 
that they did not intend setting about a work so 
agreeable to them until they had finished their meal. 
He had, however, crawled up close enough to listen 
to their conversation, and learned that the chief of 
their band had not yet arrived, having left there in 
the morning to make a detour with a party, and fall 
upon a small Mexican village. 

They had expected him to join them before sun- 
set, and he might at any moment return, when the 
fate of the prisoner would be decided. As to his 
death, it was evident there was no question. It was 
simply whether he should be tortured at once, or be 
taken away to the hills with the other captives, who 
had been reserved to celebrate, by their tortures, the 
triumphant return of the . warriors. The general 
opinion was that enough captives had already been 
set aside for this purpose, and that the prisoner would 
be put to death at once. 

Before going to take Ned’s place Ben had m.ade 
his way down to the mouth of the valley, where five 
Indians were sitting by a fire, with their horses pic- 
keted close beside them, and he knew there was, 
therefore, no hope of himself and tlie cowboy being 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 145 

enabled to escape on horseback, even if they could 
have succeeded in getting two of the Indians’ 
horses. 

Half an hour passed, and he felt sure that by this 
time Ned was fairly over the hill. ‘‘ He will do the 
thirty miles in two hours and a half,’' he said. 

Three hours, and they will be starting. Six hours, 
and they will be here. What is keeping the chief, 
I wonder? Ef he would but lose his way, and not 
come back till morning, I am safe. But a redskin 
never does lose his way. Maybe they had a fight at 
the village, and some of the redskins got killed. They 
would carry them off and bury them somewhere. 
Then they may have got a lot of women captives, and 
it may be the chief will conclude to halt up in the 
hills, and come down at daylight. I hope the Lord 
may put it in his head to do so. I don’t hold to life 
more than another, but I should like to see Mary set- 
tled here, and happy, and her children growing up 
round her. 

“ Ned ain’t a bad fellow, and will make her a good 
husband, I reckon, though he ain’t altogether clear 
grit. I see’d that as soon as I caught sight of his 
figure; he had weakened, he had, and had just curled 
up — I have seen them high-spirited fellows do that 
afore now, when they are in a bad pinch — ^but that 
won’t make no difference to Mary. Well, I hope the 
chief won’t come yet — the longer he stays the better 


146 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

— then it is more likely they will finish me off sharp. 
A redskin don’t like being hurried when it gets to 
torturing. It is just how he feels when he comes. 
Ef he don’t get here till late — and it is getting late 
now — he will either tomahawk me at once or con- 
clude to take me up to the hills. It is just a toss-up 
which way it will go.” 

The hours went by slowly; most of the Indians had 
stretched themselves out on the ground, but four men 
sat by the fires, and kept them burning brightly. It 
was one in the morning when Ben, listening intently, 
heard a low, confused sound in the distance. The 
Indians heard it also, and in a moment the whole 
band were upon their feet. Fresh wood was thrown 
upon the fire, then there was a sound of shouting 
and yelling. 

“ Ah ! that’s what it is,” the hunter muttered. 
“ They have lighted on one of the old man’s herds ; 
that is what has delayed them.” 

Mingled with the yells of the Indians was the low- 
ing of cattle ; some of these came running down the 
valley, but were headed back by the mounted In- 
dians. Two or three of the men by the fire at once 
mounted their horses and rode out to take charge 
of the herd, and a few minutes afterwards a party 
of fifteen Indians rode in. Walking in their center 
were ten or twelve young Mexican women and girls ; 
while some younger ones were carried on the 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 147 

horses, fastened by sashes or ropes to the Indians in 
front of them. The party were received with shouts 
of exultation by the Indians round the fire, and there 
was a rapid exchange of stories between the two 
parties. 

The chief ’s small band had encountered but slight 
resistance at the village; only one had been killed, 
but there were several who had received wounds 
more or less serious. The surprise had, in fact, been 
complete. Many of the men were away with the 
force assembling to oppose the Indians ; the rest had 
been shot down and, with the elder women, boys, 
and infants, massacred. On their way down they 
had come upon the herd, which, being wild from 
having been already driven that day, had given them 
a good deal of trouble. 

The report of those who had come direct to the 
valley was less satisfactory. Instead of finding it, as 
they had expected, full of cattle, they had not met 
with a single head, and could not understand the ab- 
sence of the herds until they heard the shouts of men 
driving them away in the hills. An examination of 
the tracks showed at once that but one man was fol- 
lowing each herd, and three men had gone up on 
either hand in pursuit. One had been made prisoner, 
and was there tied against the tree. The chief had 
spoken of taking some back to their villages, and so 
they had kept him; the other man had been badly 


148 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


wounded, but had escaped. He would be found in 
the morning. Unfortunately he had killed two of 
the braves — the Coyote and Long Knife. 

The chief showed no signs of displeasure. Long 
Knife was a young brave who, in his opinion, took too 
much upon himself. He was a near relative of the 
Beaver, and had more than once showed signs of a 
desire to dispute his authority. It was just as well 
that he should be killed; and as he had undertaken 
the pursuit of the cattle-dealer on his own account, 
the Beaver could not in any way reproach him for 
his death. In the next place, it was not altogether 
unsatisfactory that the main body should have made 
no capture of spoil, while his own small party had 
brought in many prisoners, had gathered a number 
of scalps, and had brought in some five thousand 
cattle. They would have something to show when 
they joined the tribe they had left that morning, at 
the point of rendezvous on the plains, whence they 
were to march together for their distant villages. 

He gave the prisoner but little thought. His band 
had eaten nothing since the morning, so the fires 
were piled up afresh, a bullock driven in from the 
herd, slaughtered and cut up, and the work of cook- 
ing commenced. Indians are ever ready to eat when 
there is food, and although the first-comers had con- 
sumed enormous quantities of meat but an hour be- 
fore, they soon joined the last arrivals, and for over 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


149 


two hours the work of eating was continued. The 
captives were given a fire to themselves, and some 
meat, and were roughly ordered to cook and eat^ as 
they would have another long day’s march before 
them. 

The hunter’s hopes rose as he looked on at the 
scene. He had fancied at first that, in the general 
excitement, he might be able to slip away unper- 
ceived, but two of the men, who were on guard when 
the chief arrived, placed themselves nearer to him 
than before, as if foreseeing the probability of his 
taking advantage of the confusion. His attitude 
was so still and quiet that they did not trouble to 
come up close to examine his bonds, as for a moment 
Ben feared that they might do. It was well for 
them, personally, that they abstained, for in his hand 
he held his knife firmly grasped, and he was resolved 
to use it, and then to fly. He had no hope of 
eventual escape if he did so, for the moon was now 
overhead, there were no trees on the hillside behind 
him, and he would be overtaken by the mounted men 
before he could gain shelter; but he thought that 
they might pin him with their lances, and perhaps 
he might escape a slower death. 

But as the feast continued, he began to think it 
possible that his friends might arrive before any 
steps were taken concerning him. It was ten o’clock 
when Ned left; they might return by half-past three, 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


150 

and the time was flying fast. It was a quarter-past 
one, as he knew by the position of the moon, when 
the chief’s party arrived, and he now began to listen 
intently. Many of the Indians, unable to eat more, 
had thrown themselves down. The chief, however, 
rose to his feet. Just as he did so the hunter fancied 
he heard a slight noise on the hill behind him, and 
at once determined that if the chief approached to 
examine him he would fly, for if the attack were to 
begin, one or other of the Indians would be sure to 
kill him at once. 

For a minute or two the chief stood by the fire; 
he asked a few questions of the leader of the main 
party as to the sentries who had been posted. 

“ This prisoner you have taken,” he asked — ‘‘ is he 
likely to make a brave show at the stake? ” 

The other shook his head. 

‘‘ His heart turned to water after he was taken.” 

Then take his scalp ; it is useless to trouble with 
him. There are a score of men with the Beaver’s 
party who will give us amusement.” 

The sub-chief drew his knife and walked towards 
the tree. The fires had burnt low now, and he did 
not notice, even when he approached the prisoner, 
that the cord round his body was no longer there. 

“ White man,” he said, standing before him, 
“your time has come. You must die. Your scalp 
will hang in my wigwam.” 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 15 1 

Will it? ” Ben exclaimed, as he caught with his 
left hand the wrist of the Indian and plunged his 
own knife in his body. So quick was the action, so 
instantaneous the death of the savage, that he 
uttered no sound ; but a yell of fury burst from the 
lips of the guards, ten paces away, as they rushed 
forward. But the hunter was already gone. At full 
speed he dashed through the clump of trees behind 
and up the hill. He had little fear of being over- 
taken by his guards, for he was a fast runner and in 
splendid condition, while his guards had a few hours 
before been eating a heavy meal. Their cry had 
been followed by an outburst of yells and shouts, 
and ere he was half-way up the ascent mounted men 
were dashing after him, while a score of runners 
were toiling behind him. 

He had little fear of the horsemen just at present, 
for he should, he knew, gain on them up the rise. 
The question was; Were his friends on the top? If 
not, he would be assuredly overtaken. When he 
reached the crest the nearest pursuers were fifty 
yards behind him. His heart gave a sudden bound, 
for there were twenty dark figures lying down on 
the brow. They leaped up with a cheer as he ran 
through them, and a moment later twenty rifles and 
pistols spoke out, and seven or eight of the Indians 
fell. The rest, with a yell of surprise, turned and 
dashed down the slope. As if it were an echo of 


152 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


the sound of the rifles, shots were heard down by 
the mouth of the valley, and in the moonlight a 
dark mass was seen, preceded by three or four flying 
figures, sweeping up from that direction. 

“ Hooray, boys ! Give ’em goss ! ” the hunter 
shouted ; “ and give me a weapon.” But as he spoke 
a pair of soft arms were thrown round his neck. 

Oh, Ben ! Ben ! ” Polly exclaimed, “ we are in 
time! Thank God, my dear, we are in time!” 
Then she went on, releasing the astonished hunter 
as suddenly, I must not keep you now. Here are 
my rifle and a Colt.” 

“ Stop here, Miss Mary ; there is a bush there big 
enough for you to hide in. For Heaven’s sake, lie 
quiet until it is over ! Some of them may make up 
here. Quick ! I cannot go till I see you safe.” 

The bush was but a few yards away, and Polly 
obediently entered it at once; while the hunter ran 
down the hill after the others at the top of his speed. 

“ Poor little gal ! ” he said to himself, “ she has 
been that scared about* her father that she scarce 
knows what she is doing. But it wur pleasant, too, 
to feel her arms round my neck and hear her call 
me her dear, even though she didn’t know what she 
wur saying.” 

The fight was raging when he overtook his com- 
panions, who had thrown themselves into the little 
clump of trees through which he had passed in his 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


153 


flight, and were keeping up a heavy fire with their 
revolvers and rifles upon the Indians. Some of these 
had already mounted ; others were replying to the 
fire, and the chief was endeavoring to restore order 
among them. He was gathering his braves for a 
rush on the clump of trees, when three mounted In- 
dians rode in at full gallop, shouting wildly; and 
a moment later a band of forty mounted whites 
swept down, and with a cheer threw themselves 
upon the Indians, their revolvers keeping up a sharp 
rattle. In five minutes the fight was over. Some 
twenty Indians, who had first mounted, were flying 
up the valley, hotly pursued. The rest, including 
their chief, lay dead on the ground. The moment 
it was over, the hunter drew himself out from the 
rest and ran up the hill. Polly was already coming 
down when he met her. 

It is all over, Miss Mary.” 

“ I saw that for myself, Ben. I stopped till I saw 
the last of them ride off.” 

Now we will put you on a horse, and will start 
and bring in your father at once.” 

“ Will he live, Ben? Ned said you thought there 
was some hope.” 

I hope so. One can’t say for sartin ; but we 
must hope for the best. I thought, perhaps, you 
would come with the others.” 

“ Why, of course I should, Ben.” 


154 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


Ned must have been quick, and you must have 
been quick. I had hardly hoped for you for another 
half-hour; but I fancied, just before I bolted, that I 
heard a clink of steel up on the hill.” 

By this time they were close down by the fires. 
As soon as they were seen the men thronged round 
the hunter, shaking him by the hand and congratulat- 
ing him on his escape. 

All right, boys; I have to thank you for my life, 
for hurrying up so quick. Now, will six of you come 
‘‘along with me and Miss Mary to fetch her father in? 
I guess you had better get a door from the ranch to 
lay him on. He ain’t fit to be taken any other way.” 

At this moment Wild Ned, with one arm bound 
tightly to his body with his scarf, and his head 
bandaged in a handkerchief, came forward. 

“ Give me your hand, Ben, if you will. I am a 
mean cuss, and I know it, ter have left you that way. 
I could have shot myself as I rode back, and I would 
have done it if it hadn’t been the only means of sav- 
ing you was to get to the camp.” 

“ Don’t you think nothing about it, Ned,” Ben 
said, shaking his hand heartily. “ You went because 
I made you. I had made a promise, and I stood by 
it, and you had to give way. I can tell Miss Mary 
here that you didn’t go willingly, but that I druv 
you to it. I watched you just now in the fight, and 
you fought like a catamount. Don’t you trouble 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 


155 


yourself about it — not for a moment. And as for 
saving your life, why, if you had stood there you 
would have got off just as I did, without my mixing 
myself up in it. But here comes the door. No; you 
stop where you are, Ned; just at present you 
wouldn't be much use." 

“ We will ride, Ben. We want two horses," she 
said, raising her voice. 

Half a dozen were at once brought forward. 
Polly could have ridden bareback, and leaped onto 
the one first brought. The hunter mounted another. 
Some men had already started to fetch up the horses 
that had been fastened in a wood when the party 
who crossed the hill on foot dismounted. Not a 
word was spoken as they rode up the valley, for 
Polly was too anxious about her father to think 
about anything else. She sprang off her horse as 
she reached the entrance, and ran forward, calling 
to him. Ben followed her at once, for the bears 
might still be in the ravine. 

“ He is about fifty yards farther to the right. I 
don't expect you will hear him till you get there. He 
has not got any strength to throw away in shouting." 

A new fear seized the girl. 

You go first, Ben ; I will follow you. It is very 
dark down here in the ravine." 

Even the hunter had to proceed cautiously. He 
too was anxious as to how he should find the ranch- 


156 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


man, and he was greatly relieved when he heard him 
say : 

“ This is the way, Polly. I kin tell you I was 
mighty glad when I heard your vyce.’’ 

With a cry of joy, Polly rushed up. 

“ How are you, dad ? Oh ! I have been so dread- 
fully anxious about you.’^ 

“ I don’t quite know how I am, gal. I ain’t in 
much pain, and I ain’t tried to move; but I don’t 
reckon as you are going to be an orphan this go. I 
tell you, Polly, I wur never more pleased in my life 
than when I heard them guns a-going off a little 
while back. I knew Ben would do his best to fetch 
the boys here, but I didn’t reckon as they could be up 
afore morning. What time is it now ? ” 

‘‘ It is four o’clock,” Ben said ; it is beginning to 
get light in the east, only I don’t see it in this gulch. 
We have got some men coming directly with a door 
to carry you down, Jim.” 

“ And you licked the redskins, eh ? ” 

‘'Yes, we have wiped out over thirty of them, I 
reckon, though I didn’t stop to count ; and only about 
twenty got off, and as some of the boys were behind 
them, a lot of them will be accounted for.” 

“What has happened to Ned? I wur well-nigh 
forgetting about him, though I thought of him a lot 
too as I have been lying here.” 

“ He got took,” Ben said hastily ; “ and then I got 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 157 

him loose^ and he went off ter fetch help from the 
camp, and right well he did it, and got them boys 
and Miss Mary here up jest in time to save my ha’r. 
He has been doing some tall fighting, and he is hit 
in the arm — I hadn’t time to ask whether it was lead 
or steel — and he had a clip with a tomahawk on his 
head. He is a powerful good fighter is Ned. But 
here come the boys with the door; they have made 
good time. Hello, lads! this way. Here is Jim, 
and pretty tolerable spry.” There was an exclama- 
tion of satisfaction from the men, and hearty greet- 
ings as they arrived. 

“We shall want a little light for this job,” Ben 
said. “ Just feel about, boys; there is plenty of dry 
grass. I will strike a match, and then we will have a 
bit of a blaze. Jim seems to be going on first-rate, 
but we have got to be careful in handling him.” 

Jim Brown was soon carried down to his ranch, 
where the men gathered round with greetings. 

“You tell them, Polly, as just at present I cannot 
do much talking, that I thank them hearty for what 
they have done for me.” 

Polly repeated the words in a loud voice. Then 
her father was carried into his own room in tlT£ 
ranch, where a bed of skins and blankets had been 
already made for him, Ben having ridden back with 
the two horses, while Polly walked by her father’s 
side. By this time the morning light had stolen over 


158 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


the skies, and the men were soon engaged in cooking 
breakfast. The Mexican women and girls were mov- 
ing about among them, bringing sticks for the fires, 
fetching water from the spring, attending to the 
wounded, and trying in every way to manifest their 
gratitude to those who had delivered them from 
their terrible fate. Only two of the whites had fallen 
in the struggle, but a score had been wounded by 
lance, tomahawk, or bullet. The Indian plunder — 
blankets and serapes, women’s garments, showy 
scarfs, and knickknacks of all sorts — had been 
gathered, and lay in a pile; and the riderless horses 
of the Indians had been gathered in a clump, and a 
mounted man was keeping them together. Break- 
fast over, the whole of the men proceeded to bury 
the bodies of the fallen whites and Indians. A 
frontiersman named Hickman, and one or two others 
who had had long experience of gunshot wounds, 
went in after they had had their meal, and examined 
and re-dressed the ranchman’s wounds. 

‘‘ What do you think of it ? ” Polly asked. 

“ There ain’t no saying for sartin,” Hickman said, 
“ but it looks to me as if Jim would get over it. I 
have seen many a man live who had been shot 
through wuss nor that. It’s pretty nigh twelve hours 
since he was wounded, and it seems to me that ef 
there had been any downright damage done to his 
innards he would have been feeling it before this. 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 159 

I reckon you have no call to feel skeary about him. 
Just keep him as quiet as yer kin. Don’t give him 
meat, but just broths and sich-like. We have been 
a-talking it over, and two of the boys are going to 
take them Mexican women back to their village on 
the redskin ponies. Then one of them will ride to 
Santa Fe — I don’t reckon you will find a doctor 
worth shucks nearer nor that — and the other will 
bring back the ponies. Two of the Mexicans, who 
lost their husbands when their village was burnt, 
have agreed to stop here for the present to help you. 
There ain’t a shadow of fear of the redskins coming 
back. Ben heard last night as the rest of them have 
already started on their way back to their hills, and 
the others will join them, so that it will be some 
weeks before there is a chance of their coming down 
again. Your own two hands will, in course, stop here 
with you, and Ben reckons he will be somewhere 
about. I and Bob Crossman have concluded to stop 
here for a week anyhow, to lend yer a hand. The 
rest of them will be off in an hour.” 

‘‘ Thank you very much, Hickman ; I shall be so 
glad if you will stay. Will you sit with my father 
a little while now ? I want to go out to shake hands 
with the men, and tell them how much I am obliged 
to them.” 

Polly went out among the men ; there was scarcely 
one who was not known to her personally, and they 


i6o REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

were delighted at being enabled to render her a serv- 
ice. 

“We would be proud to help you in any way, 
Miss Mary,’" one of them said, “ but this ain’t worth 
talking about. We have had a brisk scrimmage with 
these redskins, which is just what we have been 
wanting for weeks, and we wouldn’t have been out 
of it for anything, so no more about thanks.” 

She went up to Wild Ned, who was standing a lit- 
tle apart from the others. 

“ I beg your pardon, Ned, for having spoken as I 
did to you last night.” 

“ It was quite true, and no more nor I desarved.” 

“ Yes, it was, Ned; I was unjust, and I am sorry. 
You did as most men would have done, and Ben has 
spoken up for you, and told us all that you could not 
help it, and that you had to do as he told you. You 
have shown yourself brave before now; no one 
fought more bravely than you did to-night. We 
shall always be friends, I hope; we shall always be 
glad to see you here as often as you can come over. 
Remember, next to him, you have the largest share in 
saving my father’s life. Come, Ned, shake hands. 
I feel very happy this morning; I don’t want any- 
thing to spoil it, and it will spoil it if you don’t tell 
me that you accept my apology, and that we shall be 
as good friends as ever.” 

“ I do. Miss Mary,” the cowboy said, taking the 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY i6i 

girl’s hand. “ I am going to feel this for a bit, you 
bet, but 1 reckon it won’t do me any harm in the end ; 
it has taken me down a bit, and I have larnt more 
than one lesson. I had got too much head — I see 
that now — and I have larnt that it ain’t because a 
man is quiet and peaceable, and goes his own way 
and holds his tongue, that he ain’t, when the 
pinch comes, just about a hundred times braver than 
the fellow who talks loud and is ready to pull out 
his six-shooter. I feel pretty considerably mean at 
present, but I am going to get over it. Good-by,. 

Miss Mary ; I will come over again when 

Waal, good-by, Ben,” he said to the hunter. “ I 
owe you my life, and you may reckon on me when- 
ever you want a man to stand beside yer. I guess 
we have both been pretty considerable durned fools ; 
that is what we have been. I ain’t quite sure which 
has been the biggest; and now — so long.” 

“ Why, I thought you would be sure to stay,” Ben 
said, astonished at this unlooked-for remark, and 
wholly in the dark as to Ned’s meaning. 

“ Waal, then, I ain’t. I have got lots of work 
out there ; ” and he slung himself into his saddle. 

‘‘ I guess there has been a quarr’l between him and 
Polly,” the hunter said to himself; “ and ef there has, 
it is my doing. I thought she understood Ned hadn’t 
no choice. Well, I must speak to her again; they 
will make it up, sure enough. It is awk’ard, too.” 


i 62 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


He stood leaning on his rifle till the two parties 
had started — the Mexican women, with their escort, 
and four or five horses loaded with the plunder of 
their village, up the valley ; the cowboys and 
frontiersmen, down. Fortunately none of them was 
so severely wounded as to be unable to ride. Then 
he saw Polly coming down from the house. 

“ Well, Ben,'’ she said when she came up to him, 
haven’t you got anything to say to me? ” 

There was a little tremor in her voice which he did 
not understand. 

Waal, nothing perticular. Miss Mary.” 

“ Why don’t you say Polly, Ben ? I think you 
have known me long enough now to call me by my 
name.” 

“You never said so before,” he replied; “and” — 
bluntly — “ it ain’t respectful. I don’t like to hear 
men calling gals by their given name; it sounds 
familiar-like. I think it ’d be better not. Miss Mary.” 

She paused a minute, and stood looking on the 
ground. There was a flush on her face when she 
raised her eyes. “ Then if you won’t say anything, 
Ben, I must. I don’t think you have treated me 
quite fairly, Ben.” 

“ Yer don’t say that. Miss Mary?” the hunter 
said, opening his eyes in surprise. 

“ I do say that, Ben. Three years ago, when I 
was still a thoughtless girl, and my head a little 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 163 


turned by the folly and flattery of a lot of young men, 
I said something sharp to you. I don’t know what 
it was now, but I don’t think it was more than I have 
said to a score of others. You must remember, Ben, 
that I have been alone here. There is father, but 
father goes his own way and lets me go mine, and 
his wife looks after the children and cooking, and I 
am afraid I have never put myself in the way of get- 
ting advice from her. I have been alone, Ben, and it 
is a difflcult thing for a young girl to be alone in a 
life like this. She must be pleasant and friendly with 
her father’s friends, or she gets the name of being 
proud and stuck-up ; and the only thing she can do, 
as far as I see, is to do as I have tried to do — be 
friendly and pleasant with everyone; to laugh and 
to joke with those who laugh and joke with her; to 
encourage none, but just to hold her own as well as 
she can, and to use her only weapon, her tongue, 
pretty sharply at times. Others didn’t mind it. ,If 
I hit them hard, as I often did, they were just as good 
friends with me next night, and were none the worse 
for their snubbing; but it wasn’t so with you. You 
went away, and it was weeks before you came back 
again, and you have never been the same since. You 
have been kind and friendly, always ready to do 
anything I wanted, but you haven’t been the same.” 

“lam sorry you felt it so, Miss Mary,” the hunter 
said simply. “ I hadn’t no idee of being angry. I 


i 64 redskins and COLONISTS 


wur a little hurt at first, but I saw as you meant it 
for my good, and I knew it wur for my good; 
and when I had had a fight with myself and got the 
best of it, I came back agin to be a friend to you, 
if so be you would let me ; and as I found you would, 
I have done my best/' 

“ What did Ned say to you when he said good-by/' 
Ben was surprised at the suddenness of the turn 
of the conversation. 

“ Waal," he said, smiling, “ I could not make head 
nor tail of what he did say. He said we had both 
been durned fools, and he didn't know which was 
the biggest; and I have been reckoning it up since, 
and blame me if I can make out what he meant." 

The girl smiled for a moment, and then stood hesi- 
tating. Then she suddenly stepped closer, and put 
one of her hands on the hunter's shoulder. ‘‘ Ben," 
she said, with her face aglow with color, “ what did 
I say to you last night ? " 

“ They were precious words," he said quietly, 
but don’t think I took them wrong, Polly. You 
was thinking as how I had saved your father’s life, 
and there ain’t no denying that them redskins would 
have had his scalp ef I hadn’t come up. Don’t you 
think I took them wrong." 

“ I want to say them again, Ben." 

Do you mean — do you really mean 

But no. No, no, Polly; just at present ye are feeling 


THE RANCH IN THE VALLEY 165 


grateful-like, and your heart is carrying you away, 
as it does with women when they feel like that.” 

It is not gratitude, Ben. I would have said the 
same any time for the last year if you would have 
asked me. I have done as much as a girl can do to 
show you that I loved you. What could I have done 
more ? Other men, when I refused them, came again 
and again, but you — you never would see, and I 
couldn’t speak. How could I, until now? I have 
loved you always, Ben.” 

Then she dropped her hand and made a step back. 

There,” she said; “ now you have only got to say 
that you don’t want me, and I will go.” 

Ben did not say so, and half an hour later they 
walked down to the house hand-in-hand. 

“ Come in,” she said softly, and we will tell dad. 
Father,” she said when Hickman had left the room 
and she and Ben were alone with him, “ I have some 
news for you. There is going to be a marriage, and 
Ben is going to help you to look after the ranch.” 

Is that so, Polly? Waal, I am downright glad, 
gal. I thowt that — but there, you have made a 
better choice. Give me your hand, Ben; I didn’t 
look for it, but there ain’t no one I would trust my 
girl to more hearty. I don’t know why it didn’t strike 
me before, but it never did ; but I ain’t any the less 
glad for that. Polly showed more sense than I gave 
her credit for. I shan’t mind being laid up now.” 


i66 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


A month later there was a wedding at old man 
Brown’s ranch. He himself was able to be up ancl ; 
to superintend the preparations, which were on a 
large scale, for all the cowboys who could be spared 
from the ranches within a hundred miles round were 
there, driving in before them nearly five hundred cat- 
tle bearing Polly’s brand, which had been cut out 
from the herds on the plain. They had, besides, 
chipped in handsomely, and, after much consultation, 
had decided that the right thing on such an occasion 
was a silver tea-service, which had accordingly been 
ordered by telegraph from New York, and arrived 
in time, and looked strangely out of place on the fes- 
tal board among its incongruous surroundings. Jim 
Brown had written for musicians to Santa Fe, and 
had sent invitations far and wide to the Mexican 
villages, and a procession of carts and horses, with 
men and girls, had streamed down the valley in the 
morning. There was only one well-known face miss- 
ing. Wild Ned had drawn his money on his return 
to the camp, and had gone down to one of the 
southern ranches ; but he sent a letter of good wishes, 
and a ring that must have cost him six months’ pay, 
to the bride. The Indian troubles continued for some 
months, but no raiding party came within many miles 
of the neighborhood, nor have they since that time 
ever troubled the Ranch in the Valley. 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 

CHAPTER I 

After many troubles, and having been several 
times on the verge of ruin, the colony of Virginia 
appeared, in the beginning of March, 1622, to have 
surmounted its difficulties, and to be on a fair way 
toward prosperity. In 1609 the number of colonists 
had been reduced to sixty, and these were on the 
point of embarking for Newfoundland when Lord 
Delaware arrived with supplies and more emigrants. 
In 1611 fresh arrivals, including a large number of 
women as well as men, raised the number to seven 
hundred, and the colony then advanced rapidly in 
prosperity. 

Friendly relations had been maintained with the 
Indians, this being due chiefly to the marriage of 
John Rolfe and Pocahontas, the daughter of Pow- 
hatan, the most powerful chief in Virginia. This 
chief died in 1618, and was succeeded by his younger 
brother. 

The settlements of the colonists were scattered 
over a wide extent of country on both sides of the 
James River. The largest of these villages consisted 
of wooden huts raised round a large and substantial 
167 


i68 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


building, the abode of Mr. Reginald Neville, who 
had been one of the settlers that had come out in 
1607. He brought with him, in a craft of sixty tons 
that he chartered for the purpose, fifteen farm- 
laborers and their wives, together with implements 
of husbandry and a store of commodities likely to be 
pleasing to the natives. 

Neville, a gentleman of much resolution and 
energy, had emigrated in consequence of a quarrel 
that had taken place between himself and one of the 
Scottish noblemen who had com.e to England with 
James I. In spite of the lack of success that attended 
the previous expeditions, he believed that there was 
a great future for those who were early in the field 
in the colony ; and the fact that those who had been 
taken out by Grenville in 1585, had, after great 
hardships, been brought back to England by Sir 
Francis Drake; that fifty taken out the following 
year by Grenville all perished ; and that of a hundred 
and fifteen others left there the following year no 
trace whatever could be found in 1590, in no way 
shook his belief in the future. Consequently, when 
he decided upon leaving England, he disposed of all 
his property, and joined the little party who went 
out in 1607 under the auspices of the London 
Company. 

It was not long before he separated himself from 
the others. They were persons of very different 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 169 

rank and quality, quarrels frequently sprang up 
among them, and all would have perished had not 
one of their number, John Smith, a man of great 
energy, assumed the direction of their affairs. 
Reginald Neville saw at once that if success was to 
be obtained, it was only to be found by separating 
himself entirely from these people. Accordingly he 
journeyed with his own party some fifty miles south' 
of the James River — or, as it was then called, the 
Powhatan — and purchased from the chief of that 
name a tract of ground in exchange for the clothes, 
axes, and other articles he had brought out for that 
purpose. 

The plantation, called Cumberland by its owner, 
in remembrance of his native county, stood within 
a mile or two of the site now occupied by Cumber- 
land Courthouse, a name familiar to the world from 
its associations with the Civil War. The river near 
which it stood, and which served as their highway 
to Jamestown, was the Appomattox. Here he had 
lived undisturbed and unmolested during the various 
troubles between the colonists and the Indians. 

He had, two or three months before leaving Eng- 
land, lost his wife; and it was this, as much as 
anything else, that had induced him to breab up his 
home and adventure into a far country. He had 
brought with him his child, who was less than a 
year old. The baby was tended by the woman who 


170 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

had been its nurse. She had just married one of 
tlie young men whom Mr. Neville took out with 
him. 

Mr. Neville’s life at the little colony which he 
had founded was a quiet and peaceful one. The 
laborers he had brought with him were all mar- 
ried; he had picked his men judiciously; and none 
of them had ever sought to leave him, the troubles 
and misadventures of the main body of colonists 
plainly enough showing them that they were far 
better off with their master than they would be 
were they to embark in affairs on their own ac- 
count. 

The government of Reginald Neville was 
patriarchal in its character. Each couple had their 
own dwelling, and a portion of ground that they 
could till on their own account, having one day’s 
liberty each week for the purpose. All were fed 
from a common store, and provided with all that 
was necessary. He had brought with him several 
pigs and some poultry; they had greatly increased 
in numbers, and now provided no small portion of 
the meat for the general consumption. Game was 
abundant in the forests, and could be obtained from 
the Indians for a few beads, a small mirror, or 
other trifles. The men raised in the fields an abun- 
dance of grain for their wants, and the surplus 
could always be exchanged with the Indians. The 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


n 


principal crop, however, after it had been discov- 
ered that the soil and the climate were suitable for 
it, was tobacco, which was sent to England as op- 
portunity offered, and fetched good prices, since, 
in spite of the opposition of the king, it was rapidly 
growing in favor there. 

The women aided in the lighter field work, and 
in the gathering in and curing of the leaves; they 
spun and wove the linen, the flax being grown for 
the purpose on the plantation. All wore soft 
leathern garments, purchased from the Indians, who 
were highly skilled in the preparation of the skins 
of the animals the men killed in the chase. 

Besides superintending the general work of the 
little colony, Reginald Neville devoted himself to 
the education and training of his son. 

“ It is well, Guy,” he said to the lad, who was 
extremely fond of outdoor exercise, and was skill- 
ful in the use of the bow, as well as of the arquebus 
and pistol, “ that you should learn many things that 
do not appear of much use here; for as the colony 
fills with newcomers, many of our own degree will 
come out to make their home here, and you would 
blush to find that you could not make a good figure 
among them. Moreover, it is possible that the In- 
dians may become alarmed at the increase in our 
numbers, and may make common cause against us; 
so, as has happened before, we may be attacked in 


\J2 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


such numbers that we cannot make head against 
them. Those, then, who could do so would have 
to return to England, or to go to the colony farther 
north, or to the island of Newfoundland; and if 
you could not hold your own as an English gentle- 
man, capable of serving in our army or of holding an 
appointment in the colonies, things might go hard 
with you. Moreover, it behooves one of good blood 
always to bear in mind that wherever he may be, 
or in whatever circumstances, he is yet an English 
gentleman, and must bear himself in all ways as 
worthy of that rank.” 

In 1620 Mr. Neville, having been down to James- 
town with the boats laden with the last crop of to- 
bacco, returned, bringing with him, to the astonish- 
ment of Guy, a negro lad some eighteen years of 
age. 

‘‘ I have bought him,” his father said. “ A Dutch 
ship-of-war had sailed in just before I arrived there, 
and had landed twenty of these blacks, whom they 
offered for sale. As you know, I do not approve of 
selling human beings like cattle, and have always 
refused to buy any of those sent out, for various 
offenses committed at home, to be sold here for ser- 
vice. This case is different. This lad has doubtless 
been either sold by his countrymen or kidnapped by 
the Dutch, and, were he free, could do naught here 
but work in the fields for his living, with, perhaps, 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


173 


some rough master, who might cruelly ill-use him. 
Assuredly he will not be misused here. Doubtless 
he will soon learn to speak our language, and I 
intend him to be an indoor servant in place of John 
Davis, who is now old enough to be put to field 
work. I intend him, also, to be specially your own 
attendant when you go abroad. You are getting to 
be adventurous, Guy, and several times have caused 
me uneasiness by being so long away in the woods. 
I know that you have picked up a good deal of 
Indian woodcraft from young Ponta, the chief’s 
son; but many things might happen which would 
render it advisable that you should have someone 
with you. You might get mauled by one of those 
great cats in the forest, or you might be tripped up 
by a trailing plant or a projecting root of a tree, 
and break or sprain a limb, and might die before 
you could be found. The young fellow looks good- 
tempered and intelligent. When I bought him a 
week ago he had a sullen, hopeless look; but when 
he saw that I meant kindly to him, and when by 
signs I assured him that he would be well treated, 
he speedily plucked up heart. Without being 
ordered, he aided with the boat as soon as we 
started. He had evidently never taken hold of an 
oar befare, but he fell into it rapidly, and did fully 
his share of work as we came up the stream; and 
when we landed at night he tried in every way to 


174 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


make himself helpful to me. I think that we shall 
find him very useful.” 

“ He is very ugly, father. I never saw anyone 
with a black face like that,” Guy said. 

“ I have seen them at home, Guy. They have 
been brought home by British ships that trade along 
the African coast, and they are, I am told, to be 
met with in Egypt, and are found rowing in the 
Moorish galleys. It seems that all Africa, save the 
northern coast, is peopled by men of this color, and 
many of them have been bought by merchants from 
the Moors, and are held in esteem as servants in 
Venetian, Genoese, and Spanish families.” 

The negro more than justified Mr. Neville’s pre- 
diction. He very speedily picked up a knowledge 
of English, and performed all his household duties 
with a quickness and alacrity that contrasted very 
favorably with the slower movements of the boys 
who had hitherto, one after another, assisted Jane 
Harris in the duties of the house. Jane herself 
lived with .her husband and family in a house of 
their own hard by. She came in to cook, and her 
two eldest girls assisted her in the general arrange- 
ments. It was evident, however, that, although 
willing and eager to do any work allotted to him, 
Shanti^ — for such, they made out, was his name — 
was never so happy as when he accompanied Guy 
upon his rambles in the forest. 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


175 


He soon showed that in his native country he had 
been accustomed to the chase, for the first day he 
was out he manufactured a rough bow and arrows; 
and although this bore no comparison, as a weapon, 
with the English longbow that Guy carried, Shanti 
was able at a short distance to bring down a bird 
with unerring aim. Guy’s bow was a source of much 
astonishment to the negro. Although firearms were 
fast superseding the bow in England, the latter was 
still largely used as a pastime, and on every village 
green shooting was regularly practiced. Guy, who 
had been taught to draw a tiny bow at the age of 
five, could now draw one of almost full strength, 
to the astonishment of the young negro; for, al- 
though more than four years his senior, and a pow- 
erful young fellow, he found that he could scarce 
bend the bow that Guy could without effort draw 
to the ear. 

A few days after his arrival, Guy took Shanti 
down to the stream, where, in the hollow of a fallen 
trunk, lay a small birch-bark canoe that Ponta had 
made for Guy. Shanti gave a cry of surprise and 
delight as he drew it out, and expressed in unmis- 
takable gestures his admiration at the lightness and 
make ; and Guy gathered that, although accustomed 
to canoes of some sort in his own land, Shanti had 
never seen anything approaching this in lightness 
and skillful manufacture. Kneeling down beside it. 


176 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

he examined it most minutely, inspecting every 
fastening, and touching with extreme care and gen- 
tleness the fragile covering. He drew back as Guy 
lifted the boat and placed it in the water, being 
evidently afraid of injuring it by his touch. 

He stood by and watched how Guy seated him- 
self, or rather knelt, in it, and then, on Guy’s nod- 
ding to him, took up the other paddle, and as care- 
fully took his place. When Guy began to use his 
paddle, Shanti dipped his own very cautiously in 
the water, being apparently doubtful whether in so 
frail a construction it would be safe to use his 
strength; but after a few strokes, finding that all 
was well, he began to work hard, uttering two or 
three wild cries of satisfaction; and Guy was as- 
tonished at the speed with which the canoe flew 
along, its speed being even greater than when the 
young redskin chief had rowed with him. 


CHAPTER II 


Two years had passed, and Guy was now nearly 
sixteen; and although Shanti still performed gen- 
eral work in the house whenever Guy was there, 
he was his inseparable companion at other times, 
and, with good food and kind treatment had devel- 
oped into a powerful young man. On his expedi- 
tions he still carried a bow and arrows, although 
he had learned to handle arquebus and pistol. Pie 
did not take to the sword, but greatly preferred a 
heavy ax, which he always wore in his belt, and 
which in his hands seemed a most formidable 
weapon. It had, indeed, proved so; for on one oc- 
casion they came suddenly upon a great panther 
engaged in devouring a deer that it had killed. It 
turned suddenly, on hearing their footsteps, and, 
without a moment’s hesitation, sprang at Guy. 
Taken wholly by surprise, the latter, in endeavor- 
ing to evade the spring, tripped and fell; the ani- 
mal passed harmlessly over him, and was in the 
act of turning to seize him, when Shanti’s ax fell 
with such tremendous force just behind the head, 
that it almost severed the spine, and the great cat 
fell over dead without a struggle. On hearing what 


177 


178 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


had happened, Reginald Neville had at once drawn 
up a paper giving the black his freedom. At first 
the latter absolutely refused to accept it. 

“ Shanti no wish to be free,’’ he said. “ What he 
do without a massa to take care ob him? ” 

“ You would stay with us just the same, Shanti, 
but you would be paid wages like other free men.” 

“ What Shanti want wid wages, massa? He got 
clothes, he got food, he got eberyt’ink dat he wants. 
Shanti hab no use for money.” 

Yes, you will have all that,” his master agreed; 
but I should not like the man who saved my son’s 
life to remain a slave; therefore, if only to please 
me, you must take this paper. It need make no 
difference to you. Put it away in some place where 
you can find it if you need it. Everything can go 
on just the same as before. My son will value your 
services even more than ever. He has long re- 
garded you as a friend rather than as a slave; but 
for him also it would be pleasanter to feel that your 
services are rendered from affection, and not as a 
duty.” 

‘‘ Bery well, sah ; me take de paper and hide him 
away, den it can’t do any harm. Shanti gib his 
life willingly for young massa, just the same as if 
you write no paper,” he replied. 

One day, in the middle of March, 1622, Ponta, 
who had not visited the settlement for some time, 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


179 


met Guy as he was about to start — for once unac- 
companied by Shanti— to look at a party who were 
at work planting freshly turned up soil with to- 
bacco. Ponta came and stood by Guy without 
speaking. 

Why, Ponta,” the lad said in (the Indian lan- 
guage, which he and his father had both come to 
speak fairly well, “ ’tis fully three moons since you 
were here last ! ” 

The young chief took the hand Guy held out to 
him 

Ponta could not come before,” said he. “ He 
has made a long journey. It was at sunrise yes- 
terday that he left his village to hunt the deer, as 
he said. None know that he has come hither. He 
has been with his father at the village of the great 
chief, Powhatan’s brother. He is not like his 
brother, who was friends with the English after one 
of them had married his daughter, Pocahontas.” 

“ He has always appeared very friendly,” Guy 
said. “ My father visited him but three months 
ago, with the usual presents, and he received him 
as warmly as usual.” 

“ Wise man has two faces,” the Indian said. 

Things have changed in the four years since Pow- 
hatan died. Many ships come up the river, all full 
of white men and women, and their houses are scat- 
tered all over the ground where the Indians have 


i8o REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

hunted ever since they came into the land, so far 
back as their traditions tell them; and the Indians 
see that if this goes on their land will all have 
passed into the hands of the white strangers. 
There is much talk about it among the chiefs; and 
even my father, though always friendly with the 
wise sachem, your father, who has been true to his 
word and just in his dealings, is troubled in his 
mind, and his face has become dark toward the 
whites. I am but a young chief, and am not invited 
to the great councils of our tribes, and know nothing 
for certain as to what is said there ; for the warriors 
are silent if I approach one of the fires, and I feel that 
they doubt me ; for it is known that I have been much 
here, and am a friend tb you and your father. 
However, I fear that there is danger, and have come 
to warn you. I know not what is the danger, but 
I fear that there is trouble at hand.” 

“ I thank you deeply, Ponta, for coming to warn 
us; but I trust that, although they may feel un- 
easy at the number of new settlers, there is no real 
animosity on the part of your people against us. 
We see no difference in the behavior of those who 
come here. It was but yesterday that a party ar- 
rived with some deer that they had slain. They 
were as friendly as usual, and departed exceedingly 
well pleased with the goods they received in ex- 
change,” 


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THE SOLE SURVIVORS i8i 

An Indian is not like a rattlesnake/’ Ponta said 
shortly. “ He does not make a noise to warn an 
enemy when he is going to strike. I have no more 
t‘o say. I have told you all I know. There is dan- 
ger. When it will come, or how, I know not. But 
it will come; and not upon this place only, for all 
know that your father has always been just and 
honorable, and none bear him ill-will personally; 
the danger is a general one, and threatens all the 
whites in our land. When one sees a dark cloud 
one can tell that a storm is coming, but none can 
say where the bolts of the great Manito will fall, 
or whom they will strike.” 

‘‘ Will you not come in and have a meal before 
you start back again?” Guy urged, as the Indian 
held out his hand. 

He shook his head. I killed a deer yesterday,” 
he said, and have some venison still in my hunt- 
ing-bag. I have a long journey back, and may 
lose time; for I must, when I enter camp again to- 
morrow morning, have the haunches of at least a 
couple of deer to show that I have been hunting. 
Besides, were I to stay even for a short time, some 
of my countrymen might arrive; and were these to 
report that they saw me here, it might be suspected 
that I had come to warn you, and might cost me my 
life. Farewell ! Tell your father what I have said. 
I know not what had best be done, but he is wise, 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


182 

and will decide for himself. I can only say, dan- 
ger threatens. More than that I know not.” And 
he started at a rapid pace that showed how little 
the long journey which he had performed had af- 
fected his sinewy frame. 

“Back so soon, Guy?” his father said when his 
son entered the house. “ I thought that you had 
gone to the new plantation.” 

“ I was on my way there, sir, when I met Ponta.” 

“ Why, where is he? Why did you not bring 
him in? ” 

“ I asked him in, but he would not come, sir.” 
And Guy then related the conversation that he had 
just had. Mr. Neville was silent for a minute or 
two after Guy had finished. 

“It is a serious matter, Guy,” he said at last; 
“ but I hope that the young chief’s fears are un- 
founded. We have heard no whisper of trouble 
until now ; and had aught come to his ears, the gov- 
ernor would have sent round to all the outlying vil- 
lages and plantations to warn us to be on our guard. 
I can well understand that the arrival of so large a 
number of settlers as have come over in the last 
two years has caused uneasiness among the Indians. 
It is only natural that it should be so; and I re- 
gret to say that the behavior of many is by no 
means calculated to cause a continuance of the 
friendly relations we have had for the last fifteen 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


183 


years with the Indians. Instead of behaving as if, 
as is truly the case, they were settled upon ground 
rightfully belonging to the Indians, they bear them- 
selves as if they were here by right of conquest, 
and treat the Indians as if they, instead of us, were 
interlopers. The friendship of Powhatan has been 
so valuable that men have forgotten what happened 
before, and that the colony was destroyed no less 
than five times, on two occasions not a single sur- 
vivor remaining to tell the tale. Since the great 
chief’s death his brother has given no cause for us 
to suppose that his feelings towards us differed 
from those of Powhatan. But it was the same 
thing before. The Indians appeared friendly 
enough, until they suddenly fell upon the colonists 
and slew them all.” 

Ponta seemed sincere,” Guy said. 

Although I in no way doubt that this friendly 
young chief has some cause for believing that there 
is danger in the air, his news is not certain enough 
for us to relinquish all that we have done during 
the past fifteen years, and leave our houses, our 
plantations, and all we possess to the mercy of the 
first band of redskins that comes along,” said Mr. 
Neville. ‘‘ It will be well to take precautions. 
When they return from their work this evening I 
will summon all the hands together, and tell them 
that there is an unfriendly spirit abroad among the 


1 84 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

redskins, and until that abates it will be wise for 
us to be upon our guard. The women shall no 
longer go into the fields. We will connect the out- 
side houses with palisading; a party of men shall 
go into the wood the first thing to-morrow morning 
and fell trees for the purpose. All shall henceforth 
carry arms when they go to their work. I will 
serve out among them the twenty arquebuses that 
I brought out with me, and at night four shall al- 
ways be placed on watch. I will to-morrow morn- 
ing send off a messenger to Jamestown to inform the 
governor that I have heard a report that there is 
a feeling of uneasiness among the natives, and that 
danger may come of it. I am afraid that such a 
warning, in the face of the apparent good-will 
shown by them, will have but slight effect. Still, 
it may cause him to make further inquiries; and 
should any confirmation of it be obtained, he will 
doubtless send warning to all the outlying settle- 
ments. I have no fear that Jamestown and the 
other principal places will not be able to repulse 
any attack, but it will go hard with the settlers 
scattered over hundreds of miles on each side of the 
river.” 

For the next three or four days, the men, aided 
by the stronger boys, worked hard at raising a 
palisade connecting the outlying houses and build- 
ings together. While they were so engaged In- 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


i85 


dians came and went as usual, looking on with an 
air of surprise at the work that was being done. 
However, they asked no questions, and went off 
apparently well satisfied with their usual presents 
of tobacco, in addition to the goods exchanged for 
their fish and meat. In four days the work was 
complete, and the men went out, as before, to the 
fields, six of them always remaining behind to pro- 
tect the village in case of a sudden assault. At 
night the guards were changed every few hours, 
Guy or his father going round several times to see 
that the sentries were watchful. 

The evening of the 226 . of March was dark and 
threatening. 

I think we shall have a storm, Guy,'’ his father 
said when, at ten o’clock, he returned from making 
his round. “ There is scarcely a breath of air stir- 
ring.” 

Guy went round at one o’clock. The night was 
intensely dark, save when the flashes of lightning 
beyond the hills lit up the scene momentarily while 
the roll of thunder was almost unbroken. As his 
father would go out at three, Guy now turned in 
to sleep until daybreak. It seemed to him that he 
was no more than sound asleep when he was roused 
by Shanti’s voice. 

‘‘Jump up, massa! De redskins are upon us!” 
Shanti exclaimed. 


i86 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


“ Nonsense, Shanti. It is the roar of the thun- 
der,” Guy mumbled dreamily. 

“ No, no, massa,” Shanti said, shaking him. 

Massa Neville run off, and he shouted to Shanti 
to wake you and tell you dat the redskins are at- 
tacking all round ! ” 

Thoroughly awake now, Guy sprang up from the 
bed. He had lain down the night before partially 
dressed. 

“ Put on doublet, Marse Guy. White shirt no 
good on dark night.” 

Mechanically Guy thrust his arms into his doub- 
let, his feet into his shoes, buckled on his sword, 
caught up his arquebus, dropped his two heavy 
pistols into his pockets and ran out. 

For a moment he was bewildered by the din. 
The storm was still at a distance, but the air rang 
with shouts and yells, and the screams of women. 
Now and then an arquebus was fired ; but from the 
sounds it was but too evident that the defense had 
already broken down. There was a tone of triumph 
in the Indian yells; flames were rising at two or 
three points; and there could be no doubt that the 
redskins had crawled up unseen, and that their pres- 
ence had been unnoticed by the sentries until they 
were already pouring over the palisades and mak- 
ing their way into the houses. 

As he was still hesitating in which direction to 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 1S7 

run, he heard a stentorian shout in his father’s 
voice : “ To the house, every one of you ! We must 
fight it out there. The village is lost ! ” 

Already frightened women, carrying their chil- 
dren, were rushing in. 

“ See that all the shutters are closed and safely 
barred, Shanti! I will stand here so that I can 
guard the door until the men arrive,” cried Guy. 

The light of the flames brightened rapidly, and 
Guy could see the fugitives pouring out from every 
house, while at the end of the little street a few 
men gathered together were fighting desperately 
against a crowd of dark figures, whose tomahawks 
now and then flashed in the light of the flames. 

Suddenly some Indians rushed out from between 
the houses, to cut off the retreat of the little party. 
Guy took a steady aim, and fired; and a moment 
later Shanti’s arquebus was discharged. Two of 
the Indians fell, and the rest turned to meet this 
new and unexpected attack. 

‘‘ Here are your bow and arrows, massa. Shoot 
quicker wid dem. Gun too slow.” 

Arrow after arrow was discharged with great 
rapidity, and Shanti’s bow also twanged fast; and 
the Indians, astonished at the deadly discharge of 
arrows, leaped back into shelter with much dimin- 
ished numbers. Still facing the foe, Mr. Neville 
and his party retreated steadily. When they came 


188 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


within a short distance, Guy and the negro joined 
them. They had reloaded their arquebuses, cram- 
ming them to the muzzle with bullets, and the dis- 
charge effected such terrible execution among the 
Indians that, for a moment, those able to do so ran 
back. 

‘‘Now is your time I Into the house ! '' the mas- 
ter shouted; and before the Indians had again ral- 
lied, all were within the door, and the heavy oaken 
bars were up. 


CHAPTER III 


Panting and exhausted, the little party of col- 
onists looked round to see who had entered and 
who had fallen without. Of the fifteen men and the 
score of young fellows between fifteen and twenty 
who had been counted as part of the defending 
force, only twelve had entered the house, and not 
one of these but bore marks of the desperate fray. 
No small portion of the number missing had not 
joined in the last struggle, but, taken by surprise, 
had been killed almost unresistingly when the In- 
dians first obtained an entrance. All who were able 
had, according to the arrangements made before- 
hand, hurried to the main street as soon as they 
found that the outer defenses had already been car- 
ried, and by the steadiness with which they had kept 
together under their master, had given time for 
many of the women and children to make their way 
into the house. Yet even this, the object for which 
they had fought so stoutly, had but partial success ; 
for, entering* at a dozen points simultaneously, the 
greater part of the redskins scattered at once, and 
not more than a third of the women and children 
had reached the refuge. There was, however, no 

i8q 


190 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


time for determining who had been saved and who 
had fallen. 

To the loopholes ! ” Mr. Neville shouted, ‘‘ or 
we shall have fought our way here in vain.” 

There remained but six arquebuses besides those 
in the hands of Guy and Shanti. These were the 
only firearms that had been discharged more than 
once, for there had been no time to reload, and 
the men had clubbed their pieces, and, all being 
powerful fellows, had found them more than a 
match for the Indian tomahawk and knife. At the 
master’s words all shook off the feeling of horror 
and despair that had fallen upon them the instant 
their tremendous exertions had ceased and they 
found themselves in shelter. Those who had fire- 
arms at once reloaded them, and Guy ran down from 
above with a number of bows and a great sheaf 
of arrows that had been long lying in an attic. 
Since their arrival all the men had practiced archery, 
and the boys had been trained in the use of the bow. 

In addition to the firearms originally brought out, 
Mr. Neville had since received twenty-five pairs of 
pistols from home. These had been kept in reserve 
at his house, for it was evident that, should trou- 
ble arise with the natives, it was here that the de- 
fense must be made. A barrel of powder was 
brought up from the storehouse in the cellar and 
opened, together with a great bag of bullets, which 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


191 

had been cast by the women during the past week. 
So far, after the first rush at the door, no attack 
had been made, the Indians having scattered to 
gather plunder, and to kill any who might have lin- 
gered too long in their houses to make their escape. 
The master went round the house assigning each 
man and boy to a post, keeping six in the downstairs 
chamber, ready to hurry to any point where the 
enemy might be attacking most vigorously. 

Great fires were made up, and the women set 
over them water to boil, in every vessel that could 
contain it. Others pumped at the well that had 
been sunk in the floor of the kitchen when the house 
was first built, so as to be available in case of an 
emergency like the present. The pails, as fast as 
they were drawn up, were carried to a great, square 
wooden cistern in the roof. The house had been 
originally built with an eye to defense. Mr. Nev- 
ille had been aware that in case of an Indian war 
defense might be fruitless; for, removed from any 
possibility of succor, and with a certainty that 
other colonists would be in as perilous a position as 
himself, it was only against attacks by any band 
of marauding Indians that he could hope for suc- 
cess, until the chiefs with whom he had established 
terms of friendship could come to his assistance; 
and it was with this view, and to some extent with 
the idea that in case of the worst he and his men 


192 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


would sell their lives dearly, that he had planned 
his house. 

It was a square, solidly built structure, composed 
of massive logs, carefully squared, laid on one an- 
other, and pinned together. On the ground floor 
each of the logs was two feet square, and he be- 
lieved that these could resist any body of fire that 
the Indians could pile against them. 

On this floor there was but one door. This was 
flush with the outside, was composed of four-inch 
planks, and opened outward; but it was not upon 
its thickness that he depended. Above the door was 
fixed a pair of hinges of great strength. Above 
this again was a second floor, eighteen inches thick. 
This was hung against the wall, and was held there 
by a strong catch. The room had been built over 
twelve feet high to permit of this arrangement. 
Beyond the fact that once every six months the catch 
had been lifted, and a dozen men had stood at the 
ropes by which it was hauled up and allowed it to 
fall down into its place, to see that it was in proper 
working order, it had never been used until now. 
When it was dropped, precisely filling up the aper- 
ture, flush with the inside walls, and the massive 
bolts were lowered into the holes in the lower 
frame, a feeling of comparative security was ex- 
perienced. 

The hall was lighted by a line of loopholes, eighi: 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


193 


feet from the ground. Four and a half feet below 
these was a shelf on which the defenders could stand 
to shoot. The loopholes were considerably wider 
outside than at the inner face, both to admit more 
air and light into the room, and to enable the de- 
fenders to command a wider extent of ground. On 
the floor above, *the windows were large, but were 
furnished with thick shutters pierced by loopholes. 
The logs employed in the erection of this part of 
the house were but nine inches square. The roof, 
instead of being constructed as usual, was very 
steep, and formed, like the upper story, of nine- 
inch logs, very carefully squared and fitting closely 
together. Over them a sheet of canvas was nailed 
to prevent the wet from running through the in- 
terstices. This roof had the double advantage of 
keeping the house cool in summer and warm in win- 
ter, and of being fireproof; for were the canvas 
lighted, it would scarcely singe the face of the wood. 

At distances of six feet apart, near the ridge of 
the roof, was a series of small dormer openings, 
through which water could, if necessary, be poured 
over the surface. These served the purpose of ven- 
tilation, and the attic room was used as the general 
storehouse for tobacco and other products. 

After seeing that everything was in readiness, 
Mr. Neville called Guy to him. 

You did well to keep the door, Guy. You 


194 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


would have done no good had you been with us, 
and had it not been for those two heavy discharges 
of balls, I do not think that any of us would have 
got in here alive. However, it is but postponing 
the end, for there is no doubt what it must come 
to. That these savages will show any mercy is al- 
together beyond hope. I have no question that the 
movement is a general one, and it is probable that 
at the present moment those in this house are the 
last surviving whites in Virginia. We may defend 
ourselves stoutly; we may kill numbers of the red- 
skins; but in the end the result must be the same. 
If we were fighting with a civilized foe, whose 
word could be trusted, we might hold out long 
enough to obtain terms for ourselves; but as they 
have shown now, and have shown before, no trust 
whatever can be placed in their word; and I would 
rather bring up all the powder from the storeroom 
and blow the house into the air than yield on the 
promise of our lives being spared. We have heard 
of the horrible tortures these people inflict upon 
their prisoners, and when the time comes that we 
can resist no longer, we will perish in the ruins of 
the blockhouse.” 

‘‘ I wonder they don’t attack us, father.” 

‘‘ Without doubt they are perfectly aware of the 
strength of the building. The house has always 
been open, and all received a welcome whenever they 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


195 


chose to come. You may be sure that they have 
noticed the overhanging frame, and have taken note 
that when lowered into its place it would make the 
door as strong as any other part of the building. 
Many of them were present at the time that we 
erected it, and, indeed, took part in the work ; for I 
paid the chief what was to them a considerable 
amount in goods to send a number of their people to 
help us in the work. It was not much help that they 
really gave us, for if there is one thing that the 
redskin hates, it is work of any kind, except hunt- 
ing and paddling a canoe. 

Still, it kept them friendly, and their squaws did 
enough field-work for us to supply us with food, 
while the men felled the trees and squared the logs. 
As it was, it took us a full year before the build- 
ing was completed; for after the lower story was 
built we took matters quietly, feeling that we had 
a castle that could defy any ordinary assault.” 

Day was breaking. The houses that had been 
first fired had burned themselves out, and no others 
had been lighted. Often an arrow was shot 
through a loophole from a window of one or other 
of the houses round about, but not an Indian showed 
himself after the light had once broadened; for 
several had already been killed by arrows or shots 
from the arquebuses as soon as their figures had 
been perceived. 


196 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

“ They know what they are doing/’ Mr. Neville 
said to his son as he looked out from one of the 
shutter-holes in the upper story. “ They will not 
burn the village, but will keep it intact as a shelter 
for the besiegers. I am curious to know how they 
will begin ; for I tell you fairly that, though I have 
seen something of war in the Low Countries, I 
should be puzzled if I had to attack this place with- 
out cannon; and to these Indians it must seem a 
castle of immense strength.” 

‘‘ You have no hope of their going away, father, 
and leaving us to ourselves?” 

“ Not the slightest. This fellow, who is their 
great war chief, has waited patiently for four years 
since his brother’s death, and has all the time main- 
tained an appearance of friendship that has deceived 
us all. Nothing could have been better laid than 
his plans. Had it not been for the warning Ponta 
gave you, we should all have been massacred with- 
out a shot being fired. They must know that we 
have enough corn in store to last us for a year, and 
that there is no fear of water running short. Had 
it been otherwise, they would doubtless have tried 
to starve us out. As it is, I believe that they will 
try some stratagem.” 

Two hours later an Indian, holding a green bough 
in his hand, stepped out from one of the houses, 
and stood motionless in the middle of the street. 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


197 


Mr. Neville threw open the shutter of a window 
facing that way, and waved a white cloth. Two 
chiefs, unarmed, at once stepped from the house, 
and, followed by the bearer of the emblem of peace, 
advanced to within twenty yards. 

‘'The rascals!” Neville muttered. “I wonder, 
after their doings last night, they dare to show them- 
selves even under the shelter of a flag of truce. 
What have you to say, Attah Quebra?” he said 
aloud. “ I wonder, after attacking us as you have 
done, you venture to show yourselves.” 

“We have no enmity against the Sachem Ne- 
ville,” one of the chiefs said. “ We love him, for 
he has always been true to his promises, and no 
Indian has ever suffered harm at his hands. But 
it has not been so with others. A few white men 
came to our shores ; they asked leave to build houses 
and till the land. Our fathers gave them leave. 
But others have come, more and more; they have 
spread over our land; they have turned our woods 
into plantations; they have driven away the game; 
they hold themselves as if they were masters of 
our land. Life became so hard with us that we 
must either have moved away altogether or died. 
Where were we to go? Other tribes would have 
refused to give us their hunting grounds, and we 
should have had to fight against our brethren. 
Thus, then, we saw that either we must fight against 


198 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

the men of our own race and strive to take their land, 
or we must destroy these white men who have pos- 
sessed themselves of ours, and who, not content 
with despoiling us, treated us as if we were dogs 
beneath their feet. We have made our choice. 
Clouds of smoke rise from every spot where the 
white men have planted themselves, and heaps of 
ashes alone remain of their homes; but our hearts 
are soft towards the man who has treated us as 
friends, and we say to him, ' The way is open to 
you to the sea. Go down with those belonging to 
you, and none shall harm you on the way. There 
are ships on the Powhatan River. Take one of 
these, and sail away to your own land.’ Attah 
Quebra has spoken.” 

“ Your words are fair, chief, but they agree not 
with your actions. If you had such esteem for me 
as you profess, why did you not come with your 
green bough yesterday, and say, * To-night every 
settlement will be attacked, and every white man 
slain ; but because you have been true to your prom- 
ises, and your doors have always been open, and 
no Indian has ever been denied food, therefore you 
and yours shall to-morrow have free passage to the 
river, and a ship -to carry you away ’ ? Had you 
said this I might have believed your words; but 
instead of this, what did you do? You attacked 
us treacherously ; you killed more than half my men ; 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


199 


you cruelly murdered many of my women and chil- 
dren; and had it not been that some of us escaped 
here, there would not have been one white left to 
see the sun rise this morning. I can have no faith 
in your promises. Have not you and the other 
chiefs vowed friendship with us? Have you 
not over and over again been my guests here? 
And yet, in spite of all, you have thus at- 
tacked us. Weak indeed should I be did I believe 
in the faith of those who have broken all faith, 
who have proved themselves perfidious and treach- 
erous, and who now seek with false words to tempt 
me to leave the place where I can defend myself 
against you. Come to me again; bring with you 
your king’s children, and those of all your great 
chiefs; hand them to me as hostages to be held by 
us until we are embarked on board a ship, and I will 
listen to you and trust you. But without such 
guarantee nothing shall tempt me to leave a place 
I can defend, were every redskin in Virginia to join 
in the attack against me. I have spoken.” 

The chief bent his head. “ The house of the 
white sachem is strong,” he said, but the sachem 
puts too great a trust in it. He may one day re- 
gret that he refused our offer.” Then the two chiefs 
turned, and, without once looking back, retired to 
the house from which they had come. 


CHAPTER IV 


The day passed slowly in the besieged house; 
In the first place the wounds of the defenders were 
properly attended to and bandaged. Then a mourn- 
ful silence reigned. Some of the men had found 
their wives and children among those who had 
gained the house, but in the majority of cases they 
had lost all they loved. So among the women : the 
greater portion of them were widowed. The very 
strength of the place added to the general depres- 
sion. Action of any kind would have been welcome. 
Every man was thirsting for revenge, and the en- 
forced inactivity goaded them well-nigji to madness. 
In the afternoon Mr. Neville called them together. 

My friends,” he said, I know what you are 
all feeling, and, indeed, I do not wish to disguise 
from you that the prospect is as dark as it can be. 
There is, however, one feeble hope, namely, that 
some of our fellow-countrymen may have managed 
to gain their ships and to make down the river. 
When they reach England with the news, it will be 
as it has been before. An expedition will be fitted 
out, without loss of time, to retrieve this disaster 
and to punish the Indians. As the company will 


200 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


201 


know that a very strong force will be needed for 
the purpose, we may be sure that a very strong 
force will be sent; and by it we may sooner or later 
be rescued. But months must elapse before this can 
happen, and, until then, we must bear ourselves as 
men and as Englishmen, firmly and bravely, trust- 
ing in God to send rescue to us in time. 

“ What we have to fight against is not the In- 
dians, but against our own feelings. We must not 
let dejection, still less despair, enter here. I know 
what you are thinking, and I have the same feeling. 
Had we but ourselves to consider, we would sally 
out and die fighting; but we have here, under our 
charge, very many women and children, and for 
their sake we must be strong and patient. We may 
hope that the Indians will give us something to do. 
It is not likely that they will content themselves 
with blockading us here, for they know that we have 
large stores of provisions. 

“ What devices they will attempt I know not ; 
but they are crafty as well as brave, and we may 
be sure that we shall not be left in peace. When 
they attack us we shall have opportunities, of which 
we will make the most, to punish them for the evil 
that they have wrought us. We, on our part, need 
not remain altogether inactive ; if we find that they 
do not attack us, we ourselves will take the offensive 
and strike a blow at them. They know that we are 


202 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

weak, and will scarce expect us to attack them ; but 
they do not know what white men can do. When 
some little time has passed, and they are lulled into 
security, we will make a sortie at night, surround 
one or two of the houses nearest, rush in, and slay 
all there, and then retire before an overwhelming 
force can arrive against us.” 

There was a movement of satisfaction, and a 
chorus of approval among the men. 

“We will not sally out by means of the door,” 
the master went on. “We have the great baskets 
in which we take the tobacco up to the storeroom, 
and the pulleys and ropes that we use. We can 
easily descend by them at night from the windows 
above at the other side of the house. The women 
can lower us and pull us up again, and so we can 
fall upon the Indians where they are least expecting 
us. Half the number must go, and the rest remain 
at the windows, with bow and arquebus, so as to 
cover the retreat of the assaulting party. If we 
choose a night when the wind is blowing strongly, 
and take with us bundles of straw dipped in pitch, 
we can fire half a dozen houses, and the flames will 
spread throughout the village. One or two such 
expeditions, and we may, with God’s help, destroy 
all their shelters, and be able, in the daytime, to 
move out of the house without fear of attack. 
Great things can be accomplished by a body of de- 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 203 

termined men, and whatever can be done, I think 
that we are the men to do it.” 

Whether Mr. Neville believed it possible to carry 
out the plans he had sketched is doubtful; but his 
speech answered its purpose, which was to stir the 
spirits of the men and give them something to plan 
and think of. The air of dejection and hopeless- 
ness vanished at once, and was succeeded by one 
of grim determination. Men shook hands silently, 
as if pledging themselves to bear their part to the 
death. That night the man on the lookout at one 
of the high windows in the roof saw a number of 
little flames of fire flash suddenly up from the vil- 
lage. While he was wondering what this meant, 
some twoscore of arrows, with blazing tow wrapped 
round their points, fell on the roof. He at once 
gave the alarm. The men all rushed up, each as 
he came filling a bucket from the cistern, and then 
ascended to the platform, three feet wide, that ran 
along below the windows. Already the canvas was 
alight in a number of places. 

“ Do not throw the water out,” their master 
shouted. “ Better let the canvas burn; if we do not 
do so, we shall have an alarm every night. The 
fire will do no harm to the wood, and when it is 
once burned they may shoot as many arrows as 
they like, without any fear of the timber catching 
fire.” 


204 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

In a minute the roof was a sheet of flame, and the 
yells of the Indians rose high in triumph. This, 
however, was short-lived, for in almost as short a 
time the flames died out again. Their light, how- 
ever, had proved fatal to eight or ten natives ; for, as 
these came out of the houses to watch the result,, 
the defenders below, and those above, all of whom 
had brought up their arms, seized an opportunity 
of firing a shot or loosing an arrow. When the 
canvas had burned out there still remained a few 
spots where light, flickering flames showed that 
some little unevenness at the joints of the timber 
had caught fire. 

“ Now empty your buckets ! ” Mr. Neville cried 
to the men ; and in a minute or two the last 
sparks were extinguished, and the men returned 
below, well satisfied that some, at least, of their as- 
sailants had fallen at their hands. No lights what- 
ever were shown in the upper story, for the In- 
dians shot their arrows so thickly through the loop- 
holes in the shutters that it was dangerous in the 
extreme to show a light in the room behind. On 
the ground floor the lights were kept burning all 
night, for arrows that entered the loopholes there 
simply struck the beams of the ceiling and there 
remained fixed, and, being pulled out next day, 
added to the store of ammunition of the besieged. 

At nine o’clock on the fourth evening of the siege, 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


205 


the men on watch on the first floor reported that, 
although they could see nothing, they could hear 
various movements outside. The men were at once 
called to the loopholes. A ball as big as a man’s 
head, composed of old rope, soaked in pitch and 
thickly coated with gunpowder, was lighted and 
thrown out of the window. Its light betrayed a 
number of Indians carrying great fagots, beams 
of wood, trusses of maize, brush, and other ma- 
terials. The guns flashed out. This time the na- 
tives did not retreat, but, throwing their burdens 
to the ground, lay down behind them and replied 
to the fire with volleys of arrows. Fire-ball after 
fire-ball was thrown; but the Indians held their 
ground, and kept up so continuous a flight of ar- 
rows from behind every wall, house, and shelter that 
the besieged were unable to take steady aim, still 
less to see what was really being done below by the 
enemy. 

They must be up to something, Guy,” his 
father said. “ They would not run the risk that 
that they are taking unless an advantage was to 
be gained by it. I am beginning to feel uneasy. 
We have had a man killed, and four others 
wounded. I see now we made a mistake in plac- 
ing the shutters inside the windows instead of out- 
side. If they had been outside, by opening one a 
few inches we should have been able to look down ; 


2o6 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


whereas now it cannot be done without opening 
them so wide that it would be certain death for any- 
one to show himself. These demons make such a 
terrible noise with their yelling that there is no hear- 
ing any other sound.’’ 

It had indeed been a terrible mistake, when the 
house was built, that a projection had not been 
thrown out over the doorway, so that the de- 
fenders might not only look down through a trap- 
door, but throw out missiles or boiling water over 
any party attacking the door. Experience after- 
wards taught the settlers always to construct their 
log-houses with such means of defending the en- 
trance; but at the time Mr. Neville established him- 
self there they were altogether ignorant of the In- 
dian tactics. 

About midnight a horn sounded, and instantly 
the crowd of natives leaped to their feet, seized their 
burdens, and rushed towards the door. Several 
fell, but the rush continued until about two or three 
hundred men had carried out their purpose. None 
were seen to retire, and the besieged had no doubt 
that they had kept along close by the side of the 
house, and so entered the shadow behind. When 
the last fire-ball burned out no more were thrown, 
but presently those at the loopholes were confident 
that men with lighted torches were passing along 
below them. A minute later there was a flash, and 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 207 

the ground in front of the house was lighted up 
as if by daylight. 

“ They have fired the wood, Guy, and I fear that 
the lookout is a bad one. For aught we know, 
all the time that we have been exchanging fire with 
the forty or fifty men lying behind their bundles 
in front of us, hundreds may have been coming 
and going along the foot of the wall; and the pile 
may be so huge a one that even these thick tim- 
bers, especially as they are dry with fifteen years’ 
sun, may catch.” 

The natives had, indeed, raised a bank of inflam- 
mable materials, containing a large proportion of 
heavy beams and logs taken from the huts farthest 
from the house, nearly to the level of the loopholes. 
Along the whole front a dense smoke at once 
poured in, and soon a sheet of flame rose before 
each loophole. Arms were laid aside; the women 
drew pails of water from the well ; the men dashed 
water out at the loopholes; while others, going up 
to the storeroom, poured water from the cistern 
through the windows, so that, running down the 
roof, it might fall upon the mass of fire below. 
Soon, however, the smoke in the upper part of the 
house became so intolerable that all assembled in 
the rooms behind the hall, where the heat was 
rapidly becoming unbearable. 

Men,” Mr. Neville said, ’tis but too clear that 


208 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


the natives have succeeded. In this strait your 
opinions are worth as much as mine. What shall 
we do? We cannot sally out through the door; but 
we men might lower ourselves by ropes from the 
story above and die fighting, though you may be sure 
that escape is out of the question; they will be 
gathered thickly all round the house, and will cut us 
off if we attempt to escape. Those who have 
women and children here will, I know, prefer to 
perish with them. The others may, if they choose, 
descend and fight ; but they must bear in mind that 
unless they are killed their fate will be a hundred- 
fold more terrible than that which we shall meet 
here. We have at least the choice of alternatives. 
Those who like may ascend to the rooms above, 
where assuredly they will die of suffocation long 
before the flames reach them. I myself intend to 
bring all our powder — of which we have three 
barrels — up here, and at the last moment to fire 
my pistol into it and blow up the building. The 
one death is an easy one, the other a swift one. 
I would recommend the women to take their chil- 
dren upstairs, to sit down upon the floor there, and 
to pray as long as their sense remains to them. 
Those who love them can go with them, while we 
who have no ties will gather round the powder. 
All who like to make the attempt to escape are free 
to do so.’' 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


209 


“ ’Tis well said, master,” one of the oldest of 
the men said. I would fain die fighting ; but since 
it cannot be so, we must even take the death that 
is sent us. My wife and children have gone be- 
fore me. I will wait here with you; let those who 
have women and children mount the stairs.” 

There was a murmur of assent: among the 
women there were a few sobs, but none showed 
craven fear of death. 

“ God bless you all, my friends,” Mr. Neville 
said. “ Now let us say a short prayer, for time 
presses. Even here it is difficult to breathe, and the 
fire is creeping through all the loopholes.” 

All fell on their knees, and the master said a 
few words of earnest prayer that God would take 
them all painlessly to himself. “ Now let us sing; ” 
and he began one of the hymns that they were ac- 
customed to sing at their Sunday gatherings. Still 
singing, the men, and the women who belonged 
to them, made their way upstairs, carrying their 
children with them. Then the master moved aside 
with Guy, who was standing next to him. 

Now, Guy, I can trust you, can I not, to obey 
my last commands ? ” 

“ Surely, father.” 

Then, my son, I order you to attempt to es- 
cape, taking Shanti with you. I gave the choice 
to the others; none have accepted it, and I think 


210 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


that they were wise. I consider it possible, how- 
ever, that you and the black may make your way 
through. You and he are accustomed to the woods ; 
you are hunters, and would be able to exist where 
any of these poor fellows would die of hunger. I 
know that the chances of your getting through are 
small; and I say to you, put two loaded pistols in 
your belt, and should the savages catch you, place 
one to your head and draw the trigger. It is not 
lawful to take one’s own life, but when the choice 
is between doing so and dying by horrible tortures, 
I consider the act is justifiable.” 

I would rather stay and share your fate, 
father.” 

“ I believe you, Guy ; but you will, I know, obey 
my order. I have faith that you will escape, and 
the hope will lighten my last moments. I have 
placed a rope at the window above. Take your bow 
and arrows, your pistols and sword, and tell Shanti 
to do the same. He is devoted and intelligent, and 
his companionship will be invaluable. Bid him also 
shoot himself without hesitation if he should fall 
into the hands of the redskins. Now go, lad; lose 
no moment ; the smoke grows more and more 
stifling.” 

‘‘ Why should you not come too, father ? If we 
can escape, why should not you?” Guy said, with 
sudden hope. 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 21 1 

I 

It is my duty to stay here, Guy, with those 
whom I brought out into this wilderness with me. 
They have trusted me, and have always been faith- 
ful to me, and I will share their fate. And now 
farewell ! May God keep and protect you, my son, 
and take you safely home through all the dangers 
that may beset you, even when once away from 
here! 

Guy knelt at his father’s feet, took his hand, and 
kissed it ; and then, as the latter turned away to see 
about the powder, he joined Shanti and told his 
faithful friend what his father had ordered. 

The black face lighted up. Dat right, Massa 
Guy,” Shanti exclaimed; “ no good stop here to be 
roasted. We get troo dose red debils, neber fear.” 

Arming themselves as Mr. Neville had directed, 
they ran up the stairs, half-blinded and jiearly suf- 
focated by the thick smoke. 


CHAPTER V 


Guy and the negro were half-suffocated before 
they reached the window and drew in long breaths 
of air at the loopholes of the shutter. No sound 
was to be heard in the nearer apartments, but from 
below half a dozen men’s voices still joined in the 
hymn. 

The shutter was opened sufficiently for one to pass 
out at a time, and the rope, one end of which was 
securely fastened to a piece of heavy furniture, was 
lowered. 

“ When you get to de bottom, lie down straight, 
Massa Guy. I stop and pull de shutter-to behind 
me when I come out. Slide down quietly; no jump 
down on de ground.” 

The sky was so lighted up by the blaze in the 
front of the house that Guy felt sure that anyone 
on the watch could not fail to see them, forgetting 
that to others standing behind, the house would 
loom up black against the glow of the fire on sky, 
cottages, and trees. He slid down rapidly, and, the 
instant his feet touched the ground, threw himself 
flat, and lay, pistol in hand, expecting every moment 


212 



“NOW, GUY, I CAN TRUST YOU, CAN I NOT, TO OBEY MY LAST 

COMMANDS ? ” 


Redskins and Colonists. 


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THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


213 

to see the form of a savage bending over him. 
Shanti joined him almost instantly. 

“Now, marse, which way you thnk ob goin?’’ 
he asked in a whisper. 

“ I have not the least idea, Shanti. You lead the 
way.” 

“ We must wriggle along like snakes, sah. Turn 
your belt so de sword come on your back; if it 
strike against stone, all up wid us, sure 'nough. 
Must go bery slow, marse; plenty ob time. When 
we once t’roo dem, we run; if you hear noise, you 
no stir; if we come across skulking redskin, me 
quiet him ! ” 

Drawing his long knife and placing it between his 
teeth, the negro started, moving with an absolute 
noiselessness that Guy found it hard to imitate. 
They were now in the garden in which the vegeta- 
bles for the household use were grown. The negro 
bore away obliquely towards the right until he 
reached the spot where some rows of maize had 
already gained a height of eighteen inches. Guy 
wondered that he had not thought of these, which 
certainly afforded a shelter from sight, unless he 
and Shanti came right upon some Indian posted 
there. They had gone some twenty yards when 
Guy’s hands fell upon the negro’s foot, and found 
that he had stopped. Feeling sure that there was 
some obstacle in the way, Guy also lay motionless. 


214 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


and looking fixedly ahead, made out something dark 
a pace or two in front of the negro. Presently the 
latter pushed Guy’s hand with his foot, as if to bid 
him remain where he was; then it was withdrawn. 

Still watching, Guy made out the outline of an 
Indian with a head-dress of tall feathers. He was 
squatting as motionless as if carved in stone; his 
eyes were fixed on the back of the house, but Guy 
fancied that he was listening intently. Suddenly 
the figure became blurred, and there was a dull 
sound. Shanti had crept up to within a yard, and 
then, gathering his feet under him, had suddenly 
sprung upon the Indian. Grasping him by the 
throat with the left hand, Shanti buried his knife 
deep in the redskin’s body. There was a moment’s 
pause, and then Guy again saw the plumed head, 
and, to his delight, came Shanti’s whisper : 

“ Come on, marse; dat bad Indian gib no more 
trouble.” 

Guy could not help shuddering as he .crawled past 
the dead body of the Indian. Once or twice they 
stopped again, and through the blades of maize Guy 
saw a dark figure standing but a few paces away. 
When they came to the end of the row there was 
a ditch a foot or so deep, for carrying off the water 
in times of heavy rain ; and Shanti turned into this. 
They could hear the sound of many voices round 
them, and knew that they were now close to the 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


215 


spot where a number of redskins were on the watch 
to intercept fugitives. Suddenly a great light 
flashed up, the ground shook, and there was a deep 
roar, followed by a heavy rumbling sound, above 
which rose yells of astonishment and alarm from the 
Indians, who could be heard rushing away in all 
directions. 

For a moment Guy lay motionless. The necessity 
for devoting all his energy to the work of crawl- 
ing noiselessly, and the expectation of momentary 
attack, had so occupied his thoughts that, beyond 
a deep feeling of pain and oppression, he had been 
able to give but slight thought to those he had left. 
Now all was over; his father and all those among 
whom he had been brought up were no more; and 
deep sobs of pain burst from him. 

Come on, Marse Guy,” the negro said. No 
time to weep for fader now; plenty ob time after- 
ward; now de time to get as far away as we can; 
lose libes if we stop here.” 

Thus urged, Guy moved forward again ; and they 
presently came to a wall, by the side of which the 
drain ran. By this time the yells of alarm of the 
Indians near the house had changed to cries of 
triumph; the shouts were repeated by those who 
had lately fled, and they could be heard running 
toward the house. Looking back, Guy saw that the 
roof was gone, and a portion of the upper story ; the 


2i6 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


light of the fire had greatly decreased, owing, no 
doubt, to timbers of the upper part having fallen 
upon it. 

“ Can get up and run now, marse. No fear ob 
meeting redskin — all gone to look at house.” 

Guy was glad indeed to rise to his feet, and to 
run along, though stooping so that his head should 
not show above the top of the wall. A quarter of 
an hour later they were far out in the plantation. 

Which way now, Massa Guy? ” 

“ We will make for the canoe.” 

Good job, dat,” Shanti said approvingly. 
‘‘ Water leab no trace Indian can find.” 

There is no fear of their trying to track us, 
Shanti; they will suppose that everyone has per- 
ished,” Guy remarked. 

“No, marse; dey not t’ink dat; when daylight 
come dey look about, and dey bery soon see dat 
rope hang from window.” 

“ I never thought of that ! ” Guy exclaimed. 
“ How unlucky ! But I don’t see how we could have 
got it down.” 

“ Couldn’t get it down,” the black said. “ Too 
much smoke to untie knot, and if cut him, hab to 
jump, and dey hear de sound for sure. Bad job, 
marse, but couldn’t help it. Directly dey find rope, 
dey look about, follow track, find dead redskin, den 
dey set out on hunt. Still, we get four or five 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


217 

hours’ start, and dat a long time. We go up de 
stream or down, massa ? ” 

“ Up the stream,” Guy replied. '' It is certain 
that the whole of the plantations and small villages 
have been destroyed, even if Jamestown has suc- 
cessfully defended itself — which I fear will not be 
the case. At any rate, the whole country between 
this and the town will be occupied by the Indians, 
and I do not think that there will be a chance of 
getting through ; though I might try if I were sure 
that Jamestown was safe.” 

It was not until long afterwards that Guy heard 
that Jamestown and a few settlements near it had 
escaped destruction. The day before the attack, an 
Indian had warned a white who had rendered him 
a great service that the town and every settlement 
would be attacked that night, and the whites mas- 
sacred, and implored him to go on board a ship and 
sail down the river at once. He went, however, 
straight to the governor, and gave information of 
the intentions of the natives. Although he had at- 
tached no credence to the message that Mr. Neville 
had sent him, the governer saw that this confirma- 
tion of it was serious indeed. The whole of the 
whites were at once called to arms, and messengers 
were sent off on horseback to two or three other 
small towns on the river. The consequence was, 
that when the attack was made it was repulsed with 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


2l8 

heavy loss, and the natives, discomfited at finding 
that their plans had been betrayed, made no attempt 
to renew the attack. 

Everywhere else, however, they were completely 
successful. The whole of the outlying plantations 
and villages were destroyed, the whites in all cases 
being taken entirely by surprise, and murdered be- 
fore they could offer any resistance. Three hun- 
dred and forty-seven settlers lost their lives on that 
fatal night. 

Half an hour’s running brought the fugitives to 
the spot where the canoe was concealed among the 
bushes near the river bank. The black, at Guy’s 
request, took his place in the bow, as he was able 
to see far better in the darkness than his master. 
The river was some twenty yards wide, and the trees 
branched far over it on each side. Alone, Guy 
would have had to wait until daylight ; but the negro 
kept the boat in the middle of the stream without 
difficulty, and the light canoe flew rapidly along un- 
der the powerful strokes of the paddles. 

When daylight broke, the stream had narrowed 
and was but a few yards wide, the trees meeting 
over-head. They had now gone many miles beyond 
the highest point that they had reached in their 
hunting expeditions. 

“ Can’t go much farder, Marse Guy.” 

No ; we have come pretty well to the end of the 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


219 


stream. We will land as soon as we get to a spot 
where we can go ashore without leaving marks. 
Look out for a little clump of dry ground or a fallen 
tree.’' 

“ Which side we land?” 

It does not matter. By the light in the sky, we 
must be heading nearly due south. I have been 
thinking while we rowed, Shanti, and it seems to 
me that our only plan is to make for a river that 
I have often heard the Indians speak of. They said 
that as far south as can be walked between sunrise 
and sunset — which means, I think, about forty 
miles — is another river, not so large as the James, 
but still a large river, which rises among the mount- 
ains to the west only a few miles distant from the 
point where the James runs through them. We 
cannot be very many miles from that river now. 
I should say that we had better keep southwest, 
because they said that the farther the river goes, 
the farther it is from the James, and they described 
the country where it runs into the sea as swampy.” 

“ Ob course we take canoe, massa? ” 

‘‘Yes; it is not*a great weight to carry; but we 
shall have to be very careful that it does not get 
damaged going through the forest.” 

“ Dat so, massa ; Shanti could make anoder canoe, 
but not one like dat.” 

“ Besides, we have no time to waste ; we know 


220 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


how those redskins can follow the trail of the deer, 
and, from the stories I have heard them tell, I have 
no doubt that they can follow the trail of an enemy 
just as easily. As soon as they discover that we 
have gone, they will follow at full speed to the point 
where we launched the canoe; then some will, no 
doubt, go down the stream, and some will come up. 
There were certainly two or three hundred of them 
engaged in the attack on our house. Many will go 
off in other directions, but twenty or thirty may be 
sent in pursuit of us.” 

Dey soon get tired, massa, when dey not find 

us.” 

“ We must not count on that, Shanti. I have 
heard many stories of how they have tracked a foe 
for weeks, and finally overtaken and slain him. The 
Indians are hunters, and I believe that they prefer 
hunting man to any other creature; they will follow 
our trail until they lose it altogether, or until we 
arrive in the country of some tribe at enmity with 
them. However, we have the satisfaction of know- 
ing that we have a start of some twenty miles ahead 
of them, at least, even if they find the rope and take 
up the trail the first thing this morning. Probably 
at first only half-a-dozen will follow ; but as soon as 
they find that we have taken to the river, they will 
see that more will be required, and there will be little 
loss of time before two parties are formed, one to go 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


221 


Up the river, and the other down. Of course they 
will have to divide again, so as to follow both banks ; 
they will know exactly how far the river goes, and 
will have to examine the bank most carefully as they 
move aong, and I doubt whether they will be here 
till late this afternoon. When they find where we 
left the stream — which I think they are sure to 
do, however careful we may be — they will no doubt 
follow until it gets dark, and will then probably 
camp until morning. I am not sure whether even 
Indians can follow the trail by torchlight; so that 
even if the river is twenty miles from here — I should 
hardly think that it was so far by what I have heard 
of it from the Indians — we ought to be afloat long 
before they reach it. Then we shall have the stream 
with us, and I should think that we should be safe 
from further pursuit.’' 

A spot on the bank free from bushes was soon 
found. They stepped out, and lifted the canoe 
ashore. 

Better take off boots, massa ; naked feet no’ leab 
much mark; dose heels ob your boots make mark 
easy to see wid half an eye.” 

Guy at once pulled off his boots^ and placed them 
in the canoe. In this they also laid their heavy 
pistols, and then lifted it on their shoulders, and 
struck into the forest. Once they were away from 
the stream, there was little undergrowth; the trees 


222 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


stood thickly together, forming a shade so dense that, 
except where the light penetrated, at places in which 
trees had fallen from age, or a space had been cleared 
by some great storm, the ground was clear of all 
obstacles. Both had sufficient forest experience to 
be able to keep their course without hesitation. 
Patches of moss or lichen were sufficient indication 
to them as to the points of the compass ; while, as the 
sun rose high enough for its rays to find a passage 
here and there through the canopy of leaves, it fur- 
nished so unerring an index that it was unnecessary 
even to glance at the indications given by tree- 
trunks. 

Their only difficulty consisted in crossing two 
lanes where tracts a hundred yards across had been 
cleared by hurricanes. One of these tracts was a 
recent one, and they stopped dismayed when they 
arrived at its edge. The trunks were all lying one 
way, as if some gigantic roller had been dragged 
along across the forest; but their boughs were 
twisted in the wildest confusion, while a thick under- 
growth, some fifteen feet in height, had already 
sprung up between the trunks and branches. 

“ What to be done, Marse Guy? ” 

There is nothing that I can see but to cut 
through it. I know that these lanes often extend for 
many miles, and we have no time to go round it. It 
is lucky that you brought your axe instead of a 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


223 


sword. Let us begin at the point where that trunk, 
in falling, rested on the one next to it. We can 
crawl under that; afterwards we must take our 
chances.’’ 

It was terrible work. They took turns at using 
the ax, finding no difficulty where only the fresh- 
grown underwood had to be chopped through, but 
having enormous labor in crossing the fallen trunks 
and hewing a way through the tangled branches. 
The most extreme care had to be taken to prevent 
the canoe from being damaged by the rough ends of 
broken branches, and it was not until after two hours 
of incessant toil that they reached the other side of 
the barrier. 

The second lane was of much longer standing, and 
the trunks of the fallen trees were already crumbling 
into dust from the influence of the climate and the 
attacks of insect foes. Half an hour’s work, there- 
fore, sufficed to take them across. 

Guy had put on his boots when they arrived at 
the first obstacle, and, knowing that the redskins 
would have no difficulty in following up their track, 
continued to wear them. Darkness was already 
closing in when they saw the trees open before them, 
and a few minutes later they arrived on the bank of 
a considerable stream. 


CHAPTER VI 


It was fortunate that Guy had traveled southwest 
instead of south, for not far from where he found 
the Roanoke, the river of which the Indians had 
spoken, its waters take a sudden turn to the south, 
and it would have taken him two if not three days 
before he came to it. 

‘‘Thank Heaven!” Guy exclaimed when they 
reached the river. “ We are safe so far. Put the 
canoe in the water, Shanti; we will camp on the 
other side. I shall sleep a deal more comfortably 
with the river between us and our foes. I know 
they cannot possibly arrive here before morning, 
even if they are on the track all night; still, one 
would keep on fancying that one heard sounds in the 
wood.” 

“ Dat so, Marse Guy ; dar is some sounds dat me 
should be bery glad to hear.” 

“ What sounds are those ? ” 

“ Me should like to hear de grunt ob a pig, or de 
call ob a gobbler. Jus’ dis time las’ night we take 
our meal, and me dat hungry I could eat mos’ any- 
t’ing,” Shanti answered. 

“ I suppose I am hungry, too, Shanti ; though I 
haven’t given it a thought until now,” Guy replied, 

224 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


225 

with a look of surprise. ‘‘ There has been no time 
to be hungry.” 

Me been t’ inking ’bout eating, massa, and dat 
make me wonderful hungry. To-morrow morning, 
first t’ing, make bow and arrows. No use run away 
from Indians and den die ob hunger.” 

That is true enough. Of course we have our 
pistols, if we see anything to shoot ; but I should not 
like to fire them off unless in extreme necessity. 
There is no saying who may be about in the woods, 
and the sound might bring the redskins upon us.” 

By this time they had reached the opposite shore. 
The canoe was carried a few yards into the forest, 
and then they threw themselves down ; and even the 
thought of the loss they had suffered, and the danger 
that surrounded them, was insufficient to keep Guy 
awake for more than ten minutes after he had lain 
down, while the negro fell asleep almost the instant 
his head touched the ground. 

The sun had not yet risen when Guy was awak- 
ened. Shanti was shaking him by the shoulder, 
exclaiming, “ Wake up, massa, quick, and get canoe 
into water.” 

Guy sprang to his feet with the idea that they 
were about to be attacked, and without a word seized 
one end of the canoe and carried it to the water, took 
his place, and seized the paddle. 

“ Where, Shanti ? ” he exclaimed. 


226 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


‘‘ Dere, sah, half-way cross de riber. Paddle for 
yo’ life/’ 

Mechanically Guy struck his paddle in the water, 
but without having an idea what the negro meant, 
Leaning a little on one side so as to look directly 
ahead in the direction in which they were speeding, 
he saw what had so excited Shanti, and at once put 
more vigor into his strokes ; for above the water he 
could see the head and antlers of a stag. The animal 
had already taken the alarm, and was swimming 
strongly; but the canoe flew along, and overtook it 
within ten yards of the shore. The negro laid down 
his paddle, seized one of the antlers, and with his 
knife cut the deer’s throat. Then he dragged the 
carcass into the canoe. 

“ T’ank de Lord, massa, here am breakfast and 
dinner ! ” was Shanti’s exclamation. 

“ That is good indeed,” Guy said. “ How was 
it that you happened to see him ? ” 

“ Shanti went down to de bank to get a drink, 
massa. Just as he stooped he heard a rustle in de 
bushes. He keep bery still; den he see a stag come 
out fifty yards away, and stop to drink. Me would 
have run to canoe and got pistol, but ’membered 
what massa said, and me bite my teeth to t’ink ob 
all dat good meat, and not able to get um. Den me 
saw stag going to cross riber ; den me ran and woke 
yo’ up. We go back and land? ” 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


227 


‘‘ No, Shanti ; we will paddle two or three miles 
down the river first. The redskins might reach the 
bank before we had finished breakfast, and might 
swim across when we camp to-night. It is better 
to throw them off the track altogether. When they 
come here and see no signs of us, they will most 
likely give up the search ; for we might, for all they 
can tell, have paddled all night, and by this time be 
forty miles away.” 

The negro made no reply, but it was evident from 
the vigor with which he at once began to paddle 
that he was determined to get his breakfast as soon 
as possible. In half an hour they landed, carried up 
the canoe, and then set about collecting perfectly dry 
sticks ; for when hunting with Ponta, Guy had been 
taught that the Indians always burn dried wood, so 
that no smoke, which might betray them to an 
enemy on some distant eminence, should issue 
through the tree-tops. As soon as sufficient was 
collected, dry moss and lichen were gathered, and 
Guy drew the charge from one of his pistols, scat- 
tered a portion of the powder among the moss, and 
then, renewing the priming, flashed the pistol into it. 
A flame at once sprang up. Small twigs were laid 
over it, and then larger ones, until a bright smoke- 
less fire was obtained. While he was doing this, 
Shanti had skinned the deer, cut slices of meat from 
one of the haunches, and spitted them on the ramrod 


228 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


of his pistol. As soon as the fire was well alight, 
he got two stones, and placed them on the fire at a 
distance apart that would permit the ends of the 
ramrod to be rested upon them. Then he filled the 
other rod with meat, in readiness to take its place 
as soon as the first batch was cooked. 

“ Where are you going? ” Guy asked as the negro 
turned and walked abruptly away. 

‘‘ Me going out ob reach ob him smell, massa ; if 
stop here, must eat him before he is ready. Pity 
to do dat.'' 

Guy laughed, but he himself was experiencing the 
same feeling, and it was not long before he called the 
negro to him. It could not be said that the food 
was well done, but they enjoyed it thoroughly, and 
were able to wait patiently until the second supply 
was well cooked. As soon as the meal was over, 
they hid the canoe very securely, and then started 
through the forest to look for a tree, the wood of 
which Indians use for their bows. It was not long 
before they found one of the right age, and cutting it 
down, Shanti hewed off a piece six feet long. Next 
they cut some wood suitable for arrows, having 
a straight grain and splitting easily, and then re- 
turned to their fire. As the negro was far more 
skilled at bow-making than Guy, the latter left the 
matter to him, and, as he worked, sat apparently 
idle, but really thinking deeply. 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


229 


“ It all seems so uncertain,” he said at last. “ We 
know that the Tuscaroras who inhabit the country' 
through which we shall pass, although at present 
good friends with those of Virginia, have often been 
engaged in fierce wars with them; but I fancy that 
some of them must have joined in the uprising. If 
that was the case, we are not likely to meet with 
mercy if we fall into their hands on our way down 
to the sea ; therefore we must take every precaution, 
traveling at night and hiding during the day. 

“ I have heard that the journey by this river is. 
twice as long as it is by the James down to the sea; 
so it will take us a week at least. Once we get near 
the mouth of the river, the danger from the Indians 
will be comparatively small. Ponta described the' 
swamps as being terrible, inhabited by fierce mon- 
sters and great snakes, and declared that few In- 
dians would venture into them in search of game, 
although they abounded with wild-fowl. He said 
that there were great ponds, or lakes, among the 
swamps, and that everywhere there were little 
creeks and water-courses that could be traversed 
by canoes; that the ground in most places was so 
swampy that a man who placed his foot on it would 
sink down out of sight, but that in some places the 
ground was higher, and that here men who had 
for some offenses been expelled from their tribes, 
or who had drawn upon themselves the vengeance 


230 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


of some powerful chief, would build huts, and live 
by fishing and fowling until their friends could 
make terms for them by payment in skins and other 
things prized among them.” 

“ Does de sea eber go ober dis low ground, Marse 
Guy?” 

“ No ; great seas do not break on that part of the 
coast. Our people have sailed along it, and I heard 
from my father that there is, some miles farther out, 
a narrow strip of land. It starts a short distance 
south of Cape Henry, which is at the mouth of the 
bay into which the James runs; it extends south one 
hundred and fifty miles, or thereabouts, to a cape 
called Hatteras, and then southwest over a hundred 
miles. At some points this strip of land is twenty 
or thirty miles from the shore of the mainland, at 
others not more than three or four miles. There are 
several islands in the inclosed water, and there are 
two or three points where there is a break in the 
barrier. Farther on there is another reef of the 
same kind, but much closer to the ‘land. My father 
said that fishermen sometimes established themselves 
on these low sandy islands, catching and drying fish. 
When they had a boat-load they took it to James- 
town or sold it to the settlers near the river. Our 
best chance to escape is to find some of these fisher- 
men ; but it may well be that when they get ii^^^of 
the destruction of the settlers in Virginia, thc^Avill 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


231 


leave the place, and hide somewhere near the mouth 
of Chesapeake Bay, so as to row^ out and warn any 
ship that may arrive, and secure a passage in her 
back to England. Still we may hope that some will 
remain, thinking that when the news reaches Eng- 
land re-enforcements will be sent out.’’ 

“ How do they get water, massa? ” 

I have no idea. In fact, I know no more than 
you do about them. Anyhow, I think that our best 
chance will be to establish ourselves on some ground 
high enough to be dry in one of these great swamps. 
As for the monsters that they talk about, it will be 
hard if, with our pistols, arrow's, sword, and ax, we 
cannot defend ourselves. There are sure to be some 
sort of beasts that one can eat — ^bears, for instance ; 
and we are sure to be able to catch fish or snare 
wild-fowl. At any rate, I would rather have a 
battle with wild beasts than with redskins.” 

Me suppose de creatures must be like dose in 
de ribers ob my own country, sah.” 

“ What are they like, Shanti ? ” 

‘‘ Dey are long, and cohered all ober wid t’ick 
scales dat cannot be pierced by spear or arrow. Dey 
hab big, big mouths, full ob teeth; dey hab short 
legs and a long tail. Dey are bery like de little 
lizards dat run about on de walls and banks, but 
twenty, t’irty feet long.” 

“ Well, I should not feel very comfortable in our 


232 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


little canoe if a brute like that were to lift his head 
out of the water close to us; and I should certainly 
like a boat that was stronger or more solid. There 
may be many such creatures lurking everywhere in 
the swamp there. By the way, Shanti, I don’t see 
why you carry that big feather head-dress about.” 

“ No take up much room, sah ; might be useful. 
If we paddle along one dark night, and Indian canoe 
pass by, dey just make out Shanti paddling wid dese 
plumes on him head ; too dark to see him black man; 
dey t’ink he chief.” 

“ They would soon find you out when they spoke 
to you,” said Guy, laughing. 

'‘Yes, marse; but me know dat de redskins not 
talk much to each oder. Two white men meet on 
path, dey stop and talk ; two redskins meet, dey walk 
straight past each oder — perhaps gib grunt, perhaps 
not. But if dey speak, me say not’ing; and den if 
dey paddle close to see who it can be, den me shoot 
arrow into dem, or knock dem on de head wid 
paddle, and get rid ob dem.” 

Guy smiled at this. “ It all sounds very nice and 
easy, but I am afraid that it might not go off so 
smoothly as you think. However, Shanti, keep 
your head-dress of feathers, anyhow ; it may prove 
■ useful.” 


CHAPTER VII 


The two spent the day lying hidden behind a 
bush on the bank. Their fire had been extinguished 
as soon as they had finished their breakfast. The 
deer was cut into quarters and hung up from the 
bough of a tree to save it from marauders — wolves 
and bears, both common in the great forests that 
extended over the greater part of the country. 
Three times during the day canoes passed along the 
river. One was large, and contained some ten red- 
skins. All were in full war-paint, and a pile of gar- 
ments, blankets, and other articles showed that they 
had made a successful raid. 

“ Villains ! ” Guy muttered. ‘‘ No doubt they 
have been helping in the massacres. If there were 
half a dozen of us here with guns, we would astonish 
them.^^ 

The other canoes were sm.all, each containing two 
men, who were engaged in fishing. 

“ Golly ! dat is a big fish,” the negro exclaimed, as 
one of some twenty pounds in weight was pulled 
from the water. “ We do bery well if we had some 
lines and hooks, Marse Guy, or even de spears de 
redskins use when dey fish at night.” 


233 


234 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


“ I have been out several times with them,” Guy 
said, “ and I have tried my hand at it, but I confess 
I have never succeeded in spearing one. Somehow 
they never were where they seemed to be, and all 
I got for my pains was a ducking, for three or four 
times I overbalanced myself and fell into the water.” 

“ Me spear him, massa, if me had spear. Used 
to do dat when me boy in my own country. De 
village was near a place where riber bery shallow 
and run ober rocks. Used to get on stones in quiet 
place wid torch; fish come up to see ’bout it, den 
spear him easy.” 

“ Well, there are no shallows and no spears, 
Shanti, so we must put that off for the present. At 
any rate, we have seen enough to make us cautious. 
No doubt there are a good many villages on the bank 
of the river ; perhaps there is one within half a mile 
of us now, so we shall have to be very cautious. I 
have thought that I heard a dog bark several times, 
but I should not like to be sure of it. There is one 
thing : as the Indians here are not at war at present 
with the tribes higher up the river, they will not 
be keeping any vigilant watch, and we may hope to 
pass them in the dark.” 

While watching the river the negro had continued 
his work, and by nightfall had finished two bows 
and two dozen arrows. For the strings, he had, 
before he began, cut off long, thin strips of deerskin, 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


235 


scraped off the hair, and laid them in the river to 
soak. He now took them up, rubbed them with 
some of the fat of the deer, and then plaited them, 
binding with fine sinews the part where the notch 
of the arrow would wear the cord. 

“ Dere, massa, dey not what Shanti would like; 
dey stretch too much at first ; but dey are bery strong, 
and must make dem do till we can find something 
better.'’ 

They will be all right when they are dry," Guy 
said. “ I think that you have made a capital job of 
them — a good deal better than I thought you would 
be able to do. Now all we want are feathers and 
arrow-heads." 

“ Soon get feathers, but cannot get iron heads; 
must do same as Indians; get flat pieces of stone; 
dey do well enough if not shoot too far." 

The negro, who had become accustomed to the 
English longbows, had made the weapons on their 
model rather than like those of the Indians. They 
were thicker and heavier than English bows, for the 
wood was not so tough as yew; but as Guy strung 
and bent one, he felt that the effort necessary to 
draw it was about equal to that required for'^his 
own weapon, and that when the arrows were made 
he would be able to shoot much farther and stronger 
than any Indian could do. Before it became quite 
dark they cooked and ate some more of their venison, 


236 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


and, when night closed again, cooked the remainder 
of the meat, and paddled quietly down the river. 

‘‘ There is no occasion for us to exert ourselves, 
Shanti; the stream will help us along, and all we 
have to do is to keep up a quiet, regular stroke. But 
even a splash would not be likely to attract attention, 
for I have heard several large fish rise in the last 
few minutes. What we have to do is to save our 
strength in ca$e we are chased.'' 

‘‘ Dey no catch us," Shanti said confidently; ‘‘ you 
know we hab often raced Indian canoes, and always 
found dat we go quite as fast as de redskins." 

“ That is so," Guy agreed ; “ and of course our 
always paddling together gives us a great advantage. 
But I doubt whether these Indians have ever pad- 
died their best. They are not fond of exerting 
themselves unless there is a reason for it, and I 
would much rather not have a race for life or death 
with them." 

During the night they passed four Indian villages. 
It was too dark even to see the outlines of the 
wigwams; but the dull lights of the fires, which the 
Indians always keep alight at night, marked their 
positions, and the occasional barking of dogs, or the 
sound of angry growling over a bone, told that these 
animals at least were awake. They ceased paddling 
altogether as they passed the villages, floating with 
the stream until well below them. As soon as the 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


237 


faintest light appeared in the sky they landed, hid 
the canoe, as usual, and went some little distance 
into the forest. 

“ What are you going to do ? Guy asked, in sur- 
prise ; for the negro, instead of sitting down, swung 
his bow over his shoulder. 

“ Me going to try and find gobbler. Dere are 
plenty ob dem in de woods here, just as dere were 
round de old plantation ; you know me often shoot 
dem dere.’' ♦ 

‘‘Yes; I know that you were a good hand at it, 
but I have no great faith in these arrows.” 

“ Not for deer, massa, but good ’nough for gob- 
bler. You know how dey sit on de boughs just at 
de edge ob a clearing ; if dey are about we find dem 
sure.” 

“ I will go with you,” Guy said, getting up; “ my 
arms are a bit tired and my back is stiff, but my legs 
want stretching.” 

It was now growing light, and they made their 
way noiselessly through the trees, listening intently 
for any sound. Guy had often accompanied the 
negro on such expeditions, and felt that, should 
there be turkeys near, he would be sure to find 
them. Presently Shanti stopped abruptly and held 
up his hand. 

“Dar, massa, do you hear dat liT noise? Dat 
^old gobbler waking up, saying to de rest, ‘ Time to 


238 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


get up and look for breakfast.’ Dis way, sah ; but 
be bery quiet.” 

Presently they came to a spot where a number of 
trees had been laid by a storm. The negro gave a 
low imitation of a turkey’s call, and was instantly 
answered from a tree some forty yards away. Mov- 
ing cautiously, so that the trunks of trees always 
intervened between him and the spot where he had 
heard the sound, the negro led the way, and when 
within a few yards of it, stepped out with his bow 
drawn and the arrow laid on the cord. On a bough 
some twenty feet from the ground were six great 
birds. Five of them were squatted down, mere balls 
of feathers, evidently considering that the gobbler 
was premature in his summons of them to get up. 
The turkey-cock himself was standing erect, with 
his head on one side, evidently listening for the in- 
truder who had ventured to challenge, him. 

You take him, massa,” the black whispered. 

The two bows twanged at the same moment, and 
the cock and one of the hens fell off the bough and 
struck the ground with a dull thud. Guy gave a 
shout of triumph, and the other birds, startled by 
the sound, at once spread their wings and flew off. 

‘‘ Arrow not so bad after all,” the negro said as 
he ran forward. “ But we should hab had dem all if 
you had not called out.” 

“ I have no doubt we should, Shanti ; but we have 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


239 

got as much meat now as we can eat for the next 
three or four days.” 

‘‘ Dat true enough, marse,” the negro agreed as 
he picked up the fallen birds, drew out the arrows, 
and smoothed their feathers. Bery fine gobbler ; 
him weigh twelve pounds, for sure. Hen nice bird 
too.” 

They retraced their steps, and after eating a slice 
or two of venison that had remained over from 
supper, they lay down in the bushes by the side of 
their canoe. Now that they knew that there were 
many Indian villages on the river, they thought it 
as well always to hide themselves during the day, 
lest some Indian hunter might light upon them. 
Both slept for some hours. When they awoke, Guy 
proposed that in future one should always keep 
watch, and that they should sleep by turns. The 
clump of bushes in which they were lying stood 
alone, there being no others within fifty yards. 

‘‘ What we do ’bout fire, sah ? ” 

We must have a fire, Shanti, but we must be 
very cautious over it. I tell you what will be the 
best plan. One of us shall light a fire at the foot of 
that tree ten yards away, and roast that big turkey. 
Of course it won’t be roasted whole; that would take 
much too long; you had better cut off the legs, 
wings, and breast, and roast them together. While 
you cook, I will stay here and keep watch.” 


240 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


“ Dat good plan, massa; me do de cooking, you 
keep watch/' 

“ Very well; but before you go out we had better 
pluck and cut up the bird, so that no time will be 
lost when your fire is once alight.” 

The negro nodded. “ Yes, sah, and get feathers 
for arrows ! dat bery good.” 

While Guy picked the bird, Shanti trimmed 
feathers suitable for the purpose, and fastened them 
to the arrows with thread-like strips from the deer's 
sinews. This took some time, but Guy agreed that 
it was of more importance than breakfast, as the 
arrows could not be trusted to fly true if unfeathered, 
especially as the points were still without stones. 
When the negro had feathered two or three of them 
Guy took them out and tried them, and found, to 
his great satisfaction, that they flew well and truly 
up to forty or fifty yards, and maintained a fairly 
correct course considerably beyond this. As soon 
as the bird was ready, Shanti collected dry wood for 
the fire, lighted it; and set about the work of cooking, 
while Guy took his place in the clump of bushes, with 
his bow and arrows in readiness. 

The turkey meat was soon frizzling in the flame. 
Guy watched the operation, from time to time look- 
ing round and scanning every tree-trunk. Suddenly 
his eyes became fixed and his figure rigid, for he 
fancied he had caught a momentary sight of some- 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


241 


thing moving behind one of the trees. A minute 
later the head of an Indian peered out from behind 
it. Shanti’s back was towards him, and a moment 
later, with swift but silent action, the redskin had 
moved forward to the next tree. Guy’s first im- 
pulse was to call out to warn the negro ; but an in- 
stant’s reflection told him that if he did so, the red- 
skin would escape and bring the whole of the men 
of his village down upon them. He therefore fitted 
an arrow to the string, and drew his bow. By 
stealthy advances the Indian arrived within ten yards 
of Shanti. His tomahawk was in his hand. He 
crouched for a spring, and in another moment would 
have leaped upon the negro had not Guy loosed his 
arrow, uttering as he did so a shout of warning. 
Shanti sprang to his feet ; but the occasion for action 
was over. 

Guy’s arrow had struck the redskin full in the 
chest ; his spring was arrested, the tomahawk slipped 
from his hand, and he fell to the ground. 

'' Dat a bery close t’ing, Marse Guy,” the negro 
said, his black face paling a little from the sudden- 
ness of the danger. “ Why you no shout before? 
If you had missed him it would hab been bery bad 
for me ! ” 

Ah, but I wasn’t going to miss him, Shanti ! I 
am not so clumsy with my bow as to miss a man 
at twenty yards — which is about the distance.” And 


242 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


he then explained why he had not given the alarm 
on first seeing the Indian. 

‘‘ Quite right, sah ; if dat fellow got away we hab 
bery bad time. What we do wid him, massa ? ” 

“ It would be better not to let him remain here; 
another of his tribe might come along and find him.’* 
The negro went to the river-bank, and walked 
along a short distance. Big clump ob bushes 
growing jus’ on edge ob water; drop redskin in 
dere; body no’ float away. Don’t you trouble, 
marse; me carry him easy ’nough. Look, sah; he 
one ob dose who hab been to settlement,” and he 
pointed to a tuft of hair hanging from the toma- 
hawk ; “ dat is a white man’s hair.” 

Any compunction Guy might have felt over hav- 
ing killed the Indian vanished in a moment, and he 
turned away while the negro lifted the Indian with- 
out difficulty on his shoulder and walked away with 
him. It was a few minutes before he returned, 
carrying, to Guy’s surprise, the buckskin hunting- 
shirt, leggings, and moccasins of the Indian. 

“ Dey may come in bery useful, Marse Guy. If 
want to scout near redskin village, me can put deni 
on, and wid dem fe’ders go along quite bold. Here 
am him hunting-pouch, wid t’ings dat may be handy ; 
here am two coils ob le’der, and a packet ob de paints 
dey use for deir faces; here also him knife, dat he 
use for skinning beasts or scalping enemies. We 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


245 - 


may as well take him arrows too; dey short, and no 
good for long distance, but can use close. If we hab 
to shoot a man, better use Indian arrows dan ours. 
Dey see at once strange arrows, and dat set dem on 
de hunt for us ; if one ob deir own arrows, dey t’ink 
he kill in quarrel. Oh, dear ! you not tend to 
turkey, massa; me Afraid he done too much;” and 
he ran to the fire, took off the meat, and examined 
it. Only li’r burned — plenty good.” 

They carried the meat into the bush and ate it 
there. Then they slept by turns during the rest of 
the day, and as soon as it was dark set off again. 
Towards morning they heard a deep, roaring sound. 
At first Guy thought that it was distant thunder ; but 
he was soon convinced that it was too continuous 
for that. They rested on their paddles and listened. 

It is a fall,” he said after a pause. ‘‘ I have heard 
from the Indians that many of the rivers make a 
great fall when they reach the edge of the higher 
country. Let us paddle on, so as to get as near as 
we can before day breaks.” 

The roar of the falls grew louder and louder, and 
after another hour's rowing they saw that the cur- 
rent was increasing in speed. 

We had better get to the bank at once,” Guy 
said. To-morrow we must find out how far it is 
to the falls, and what they are like, and how we can 
best carry our canoe round.” 


244 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


They soon gained the shore. The bed of the 
stream was here rocky, and the bank from fifteen 
to twenty feet in height, smooth and water-worn, 
showing the volume of water that had swept down 
in times of flood. They carried the boat farther 
into the wood than usual, and after making a meal 
upon cold turkey, started at once, as Guy was eager 
to ascertain the prospects before them. After walk- 
ing for upwards of a mile, they arrived at the edge 
of a large clearing with patches of cultivation here 
and there, and a score of wigwams standing on an 
eminence which they knew must be on the river 
bank. Skirting the clearing, they came, after an- 
other half-hour’s walking to a spot where the ground 
fell rapidly away, and keeping along the brow, pres- 
ently arrived at a point where the fall of a giant tree 
had cleared a considerable space of smaller growth 
and created an opening from which a view could be 
obtained. Immediately in front of them stretched a 
sheet of water, broadening as it went until in the 
far distance it widened out to the horizon. On right 
and left of this sound, which was, where they could 
first see it, about half a mile across, stretched a wide 
expanse of flat country, covered for the most part 
with thick foliage; but in places there was a gleam 
of water, and Guy knew that these were the great 
swamps of which he had heard. 


CHAPTER VIII 


We are at the end of our river journey/’ Guy 
said, after they had gazed silently at the view for 
some minutes. ‘‘ That sheet of water is a great 
sound, like Chesapeake Bay, into which the James 
runs. All that flat country on both sides is a swamp, 
and it is there that we shall have to hide for a bit. I 
cannot see the line of sand that separates these 
waters from the sea. I suppose that it is too far 
off. However, we know it is there. I should think 
that we are five hundred feet above the water level, 
and can see thirty or forty miles * but there is noth- 
ing to go by. I don’t think that we shall have any 
trouble in getting down into the lower level. Of 
course it will be steep in some places, but not enough 
to stop us, I should say, as far as one can judge by 
the line of the tree-tops. However, we may as well 
go down the hill and find out what it is like.” 

Although in some places the slope was gradual 
enough for them to be able to descend with ease, at 
others there were almost perpendicular precipices, 
where it was necessary to make long detours to find 
a spot where, by the aid of the tree-trunks, they 
could manage to descend. 

245 


246 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


“ One thing is certain : we cannot get down here 
at night,” Guy said. “We will go up to the top 
again and have a good long sleep, go back to the 
canoe late this afternoon, start just as it is getting 
dusk, strike the edge of this clearing, and keep along 
just inside the forest. It would never do to try to 
take the canoe straight through the wood at night; 
we should be sure to damage it. When we get to 
this side of the clearing we will lie down until 
morning begins to break, and then make the descent, 
and strike the river where it widens out into the 
sound.” 

The negro, as usual, assented without comment. 
It was a hard climb up to the crest again. When 
they reached it they lay down in a clump of bushes, 
and slept until the sun was far down the crest ; then 
they started, and circling widely round the clearing 
came down upon the spot where they had left the 
canoe. 

“ We shall have to be very careful to-morrow,” 
Guy said. “ I have no doubt there is another In- 
dian village — probably a large one — somewhere be- 
low the rapids at the bottom of the fall. There 
would be sure to be good fishing, and no doubt the 
natives also go out into the sound to fish there, and 
have a fleet of canoes. We must be sure to get be- 
yond that village before we strike the water.” 

Half an hour later they agreed that it was dark 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


247 

enough to start, ani after two hours' walking, 
reached the farther edge of the clearing. Guy had 
taken to the Indian moccasins; the black, as usual, 
went barefooted; therefore their trail would be so 
slight that it was scarcely likely to be noticed by any 
Indians who might next day go out from behind the 
village to hunt. 

As soon as it became light enough to find their 
way through the trees, they were afoot again; but 
it cost them eight hours’ hard work before they were 
fairly at the bottom of the slope, so great was the 
difficulty of lowering the canoe down the rough 
places without risking damage to its sides. The 
heat below was much greater than it had been above, 
and they were glad to take a long rest before pro- 
ceeding farther. They had gone but a few hundred 
yards when they came upon an Indian trail. This 
was evidently much used, and they had no doubt that 
it led to the village at the foot of the rapids, and 
was the path that was used by the braves when 
going up to hunt on the higher ground, or on the 
face of the descent, which was just the place that 
bears and mountain lions would choose for their 
haunts. 

‘‘ This is fortunate,” Guy said. ‘‘We certainly 
could not make our way through the trees at night, 
and, with a large village near, it would be very risky 
to do so by day. But I think that we could keep on 


248 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


the track safely on the darkest night. We could tell 
by feeling if we were to leave it, and if the one in 
front held his bow well out across him it would 
touch any tree that might be in the way, and cause 
a sudden bend in the trail.^’ 

“ Dat so,’^ Shanti agreed ; ‘‘ me sure that me could 
keep on trail. Bare feet tell at once if leab it; 
mus', ob course, go slow and careful.’’ 

“ Then that is settled. We will go back fifty 
yards, and hide up in that clump of bushes till it gets 
dark, which it will do in two or three hours. We 
had better wait even longer than that, so as to give 
time for any hunter to return.” 

While they were waiting they saw several Indians 
pass along the trail, all carrying game of some kind ; 
and it was not until fully three hours after sunset 
that they thought that they could safely go for- 
ward. 

As Guy had expected, they found little trouble in 
keeping the track. The negro went first. He 
carried the prow of the canoe on one shoulder, so 
that it did not project more than a foot in front of 
him; then with both hands he held out his bow at 
arm’s-length across him. It was well that he did 
so, for the trail frequently made sharp bends to avoid 
trees that grew in the direct line. The darkness was 
so intense that the trunks could not be seen even at 
arm’s-length; but the bow at once gave warning, 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


249 


and enabled them to keep on the track. They moved 
slowly, and it was nearly two hours before they saw 
by a faint light ahead of them that they were ap- 
proaching the edge of the forest. 

They paused when they issued out into the open. 
Two hundred yards away four or five fires were 
blazing, and by their light it could be seen that the 
village was very larg^. In the opening between the 
wigwams many figures could be seen moving about. 
The sound of women’s voices could be plainly heard 
as they called each other or their children. Boys 
shouted and dogs barked. 

They kept along by the edge of the trees, and 
after walking another quarter of a mile, turned off 
across the open ground, and in five minutes stood by 
the side of the river, here two or three hundred 
yards wide. They were, however, obliged to follow 
the bank for another two miles; for several canoes, 
with occupants holding lighted torches, were out on 
the water. They could see the Indians standing in 
the bows, darting spears deeply down, and seldom 
without success, as was seen by the gleam of the 
torches on the white bellies of the fish thrown back- 
ward into the canoes. 

Me gib a good deal for one ob dem spears ! ” 
Shanti murmured. 

Yes; it would be very useful; but as I am afraid 
we cannot do any barter at present, we must wait 


250 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


for some better chance of getting one,” whispered 
Guy, in a joking way. 

When they thought that they were beyond the last 
of the canoes, they put their boat in the water, and 
quietly paddled along, keeping some twenty yards 
from the bank. They forgot that any canoe coming 
up from the sound would also probably hug the 
bank to avoid the force of the current; so when 
they had gone about a mile, they were startled by 
being suddenly addressed by some Indians whose 
canoe. had kept so close under the bank that they 
had not perceived it. What they said Guy knew 
not for the dialect was different from that of the 
Indians in Virginia. Again some question was put, 
and Guy thought it better to remain silent than to 
speak in what would be at once detected as a strange 
dialect. The boats were now abreast; the Indians 
had ceased paddling. There were, he could see, 
four of them. He and Shanti were paddling 
steadily, though without apparent haste, and, the 
tide helping them, they rapidly shot past the other 
canoe at a distance of some fifteen yards. They 
could hear the Indians talking together, and then, 
glancing back, saw them turning their canoe. Evi- 
dently the fact that no reply had been made, and 
that the boat was going out at the time when most 
of the others had nearly finished their fishing, seemed 
strange and mysterious to them. It might be, too, 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


251 

that the outline of the paddlers’ figures had struck 
them as unfamiliar, in spite of the fact that Shanti 
was wearing the Indian feathers. 

‘‘ They are coming after us, Shanti. Don’t 
quicken your stroke at present; it may be a long 
chase. They have three paddles to our two; but 
they have the dead weight of one sitter, and prob- 
ably carry a load of fish.” 

The Indians paddled hard, but soon saw that the 
strange canoe held its distance some hundred yards 
ahead. They were now convinced that something 
was wrong. The tribe was not at war, for some of 
those who had returned from the attack on the set- 
tlement had brought back the news that the white 
strangers had all been killed. Who, then, could 
these two men be? That they were whites did not 
occur to them, but from the glance they had ob- 
tained of their figures the Indians were convinced 
that they were not men of their tribe. After a few 
words together, the man in the stern took the pad- 
dle from the man next to him, and the latter, with 
one of his companions, set to work to throw over- 
board the fish that they had captured, and with which 
the canoe was half-filled. Before this was accom- 
plished the strange canoe had gained another two 
hundred yards; but with an empty boat and three 
paddles, the Indians had no doubt that they would 
speedily overhaul them. 


252 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


It was past midnight when Guy and his com- 
panion had embarked, and half an hour later when 
the chase began. From time to time Guy looked 
back over his shoulder. 

“ They have got rid of all their fish, and are 
working their three paddles again; we must set to 
in earnest now.” 

At the end of another hour there was but little, 
difference in the relative positions of the canoes. 
The Indians had gained some fifty yards, but, in 
spite of their exertions, they were not now lessening 
the interval. They had, however, one advantage — 
that of a spare hand ; and at the end of the hour one 
of the others handed his paddle to the passenger, and 
their boat again began to creep up. 

When daylight broke there was but a hundred 
yards between them. The Indians had made fre- 
quent changes, and, owing to the relief thus afforded, 
were still paddling strongly, while the continued 
strain was telling upon Guy and his companion. 

‘‘ We shall have to fight for it,” the former said. 

It is a bad business, and I would have done any- 
thing to avoid it ; for if we could have got into the 
s>vamps without being noticed, we should have been 
quite safe unless we had accidentally run against 
them. When it is once known that we are here, we 
shall have the whole tribe after us.” 

No one mus' go back to tell ’bout it, sah ; we 


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253 


t’rash dem easy. We know some of deir tribe were 
among those who kill our people; we quite right 
to kill dem back. Besides, if we no kill dem, dey 
kill us. Paddle a little easy, massa; we mus’ get 
breath to shoot straight. You bring dem down wid 
arrows.” 

“ No, no, Shanti ; it is likely enough they have 
not got bows and arrows with them, and if I were 
to shoot one of them, the others might turn and 
paddle off.” 

‘‘ See, massa ! black speck on de water ahead. 
Me t’ink anoder canoe coming dis way.” 

“ That settles it, then ; paddle quietly till they 
are within fifty yards, and when I give the word 
swing her head round. You have got your pistols 
ready? ” 

Dey ready, sah ; saw to priming dis abternoon.” 

The Indians were paddling their hardest, believ- 
ing that the fugitives were completely exhausted, 
and they gave# an exclamation of surprise as the 
strange canoe suddenly swung round when they 
were four or five lengths away, and they saw that 
one of the occupants was white and the other black. 
White men they knew, as they had been concerned 
in the killing of the settlers; but it was evident 
from their exclamations of astonishment that they 
had never seen or heard of a black man. Before 
they could do more than drop their paddles in order 


254 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


to grasp their tomahawks, the boats were along- 
side of each other ; but as the Indians sprang to their 
feet, shots were discharged, and two fell across their 
canoe, upsetting it instantly. As the heads of the 
other Indians came above water Shanti fired again, 
and one of them threw up his hands and sank. Guy 
did not fire. Deep as was his feeling of hatred for 
those who had so treacherously massacred his father 
and countrymen, he could not yet bring himself to 
fire upon an unarmed man in cold blood. 

'‘That will do,” he cried; “I cannot kill the 
wretch, and now that another canoe is coming, his 
death will not insure our safety. Bring your ax 
down on that canoe and stave it in. That is right. 
Now make for the shore.” 

“Wait one moment, Marse Guy;” and leaning 
over the canoe, the negro turned it over, and, with 
a shout of satisfaction, seized three fish-spears that 
were floating under it. 

They had during their flight passed several open- 
ings into the swamp, but Guy had not adopted 
Shanti's suggestion that they should head for one of 
them. 

“ They know the swamp, and we don’t,” he had 
said. “ We might find the opening only extended 
a short distance, and should be caught in a trap. 
No; we will hold on as long as we can, and then 
fight” 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


255 


The canoe coming up the sound was still nearly 
a mile away ; but the sun was almost behind it, and 
they could see by the quick flash of the paddles that 
the Indians were working their hardest. They must 
have seen the encounter between the two boats, and, 
still more, the sound of the shots must have reached 
them. 

The shore was but a quarter of a mile distant 
when the fugitives’ canoe shot away from the scene 
of conflict towards an opening which lay nearly 
opposite to them, and in two or three minutes dashed 
into the channel. 

“ Easy, now, Shanti ; there is no chance of their 
following us when they hear from the man we 
spared how we disposed of his comrades, and that 
we have the arms that to them are so terrible,” said 
Guy. “ Not many of these Indians can have seen 
them used, but no doubt stories of the white man’s 
‘ fire-stick ’ have gone from mouth to mouth through 
the whole country. The canoe was a large one, and 
,I should think that there must have been four row- 
ers and perhaps two or three others; but they would 
hesitate to follow men whom they must consider to 
have appeared among them in some supernatural 
manner. Besides, I could see by their faces, when 
they caught sight of you, that they had never seen 
one of your color before, and perhaps never even 
heard of one; and, for aught I know, they may take 


256 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 

you for a particular friend of mine from the in- 
fernal regions.” 

I hope dey hab, massa ; don’t want to hab to 
fight whole tribe ob redskins. Dismal-looking sort 
ob place dis, sah — somet’ing like African riber, but 
more big, high trees.” 

‘'Yes; those are 'Splendid pitch-pines,” Guy 
agreed. “ There are some of the same sort grow- 
ing in the woods near our place, but they are noth- 
ing like so fine as these. We call them pitch-pines 
because the wood is full of pitch ; it is much harder 
and also heavier than other pines.” 

“ Pitch may be useful to us, sah ; if anyt’ing hap- 
pen to canoe, can mend bery easy if hab got pitch.” 

“ Keep a sharp lookout for floating timber, or 
for snakes, or any kind of obstacles, Shanti. This 
swamp is a dismal place. The ground here is but 
an inch or two above the water, and one can see 
that at times of flood the water rises only two feet 
higher; you see, there are little channels every few 
yards apart. Although the sun is up, it is quite 
twilight here, the vegetation is so rank and strong.” 

For half an hour they followed the windings of 
the channel, which was sometimes ten or twelve 
yards across, sometimes only as many feet. Pres- 
ently, to Guy’s astonishment, what he thought was 
a log by the edge of the bank slid into the water 
with a loud splash. 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


257 

“ Dat’s him!” Shanti cried excitedly. Dat’s 
one ob dem things I was telling you ’bout ! ” 

“ Then stop paddling; we will charge our pistols 
again; that fellow is big enough to break the canoe 
in two pieces.” 

“ He big ’nough, massa ; but he no do it. If we 
were to hurt him he might rush at de boat; but 
neber do dat if let alone. Dey are cowardly beasts ; 
canoe frighten dem. As long as we in boat, if we 
leab dem alone, dey leab us alone.” 

“ Well, that is a good thing, Shanti; we certainly 
don’t want to meddle with them.” 

Presently the channel forked; and as the two 
branches were about the same size, Guy and his 
companion took the one on the left, as it would lead 
them farther from the land and deeper into the 
heart of the swamp. Ere long the channel again 
subdivided, and they found themselves presently in 
a labyrinth of sluggish water, sometimes so nar- 
row that they could touch both sides with their pad- 
dles, at others opening out into sheets of water a 
quarter of a mile across. 

“ Dis awful place to get lost,” the negro said as 
they stopped paddling in the center of one of these 
ponds. “ Him worse dan de forest eber so much.” 

Guy agreed. “ But you see there are the same 
signs, Shanti. Look at those mosses hanging down 
in great clumps. Those trees that are higher than 


258 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


the others all seem bent over one way, and as the sun 
is in the east, we can see that the winds from the 
sea are stronger than those from the land. We 
shall soon be at home here. Well, we need not be 
afraid of pursuit, for the swamp has this advantage 
over the forest, that we leave no tracks behind us. 
If the Indians do light upon us, it will be by pure 
accident. Now that we are certain on that point, 
we must find a place to land. I suppose the deeper 
we get into this swamp, the more likely we are to 
find such a place.” 

“ Me no see much change yet, sah,” the negro 
said, looking round at the almost submerged shore. 

“ That is so ; still, we may feel sure that there 
are places where the ground is higher. I suppose 
this part was once above the sea-level, and was like 
other land, with some undulations. Nobody ever 
saw a tract thirty or forty miles square as flat as 
the top of a table. No; there must be some dry 
places, if we can but find them. Fortunately, we 
have got enough meat to last us a couple of days, 
and I hope we shall find a place before night. It 
is early yet, and we have the whole day before us, 
and that reminds me that I am hungry.” 

Me been t’inking so for some time, massa.” 

They finished the remains of the turkey, took a 
drink of water, which tasted brackish, then- paddled 
quietly on again, taking care to go always toward 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


259 

the east, so as to avoid passing over the same ground 
twice. An hour later Guy exclaimed, There is 
rising ground ahead of us. Do you see that? It 
rises sharply up from the water’s edge.” 

A dozen strokes and they were alongside, and 
the negro, who was in the bow, stepped ashore. 

‘‘ Sure ’nough, it am hard ground,” he exclaimed 
joyfully. 

He steadied the canoe while Guy landed. They 
pulled it a short distance up, and then, taking their 
weapons, set out to examine the place. The ground 
rose rapidly until it was some fifteen feet above 
the water-level; it maintained this height for some 
thirty yards, and then sloped down again. They 
followed it to the water, and then made a detour 
until they again reached the canoe. 

'‘We shall do very well here, as long as we choose 
to stay,” Guy said. 

" Yes, massa,” the negro replied, in a tone of 
doubt ; " but what are we to eat ? / 

"To begin with, there are water-fowl; we saw 
many of them on the ponds we passed through, and 
they seemed perfectly tame. Then we have the 
fish. There must be fish here ; I don’t see what else 
those big monsters feed upon.” 

" Me clean forgot de spears, Massa Guy ; sure 
’nough, we get plenty fish.” 

" We will set about it to-night, for those joints of 


26 o 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


vension have been kept too long already, and will 
soon be uneatable/’ 

Dey do for bait,” the negro said. 

But we have no hooks, Shanti.” 

Me make hooks out ob de bones ob de fus’ big 
fish we catch.” 

“ The first thing, Shanti, is to clear all these low 
bushes away. Fortunately, they don’t grow here as 
they do in the swamps; if they did, it would be a 
heavy job to clear them. However, we will get rid 
of them over a good, large space. There may be 
snakes here, and at least we will keep them as far 
away from us as possible. This is about the mid- 
dle of the rise, and we can begin by cutting down 
those four young pitch-pines. You can split up the 
tops for torches, and chop up the rest into logs ; they 
will make a splendid fire. There is one comfort : we 
need not be afraid of making a bright one. There 
is no chance of lurking Indians ; even a redskin could 
not find his way through these channels after dark." 


CHAPTER IX 


Leaving the negro to clear the ground, Guy went 
down to the canoe. 

‘‘ Massa, don’t get losed ! If you go away you 
neber find your way back again, and me soon die 
ob hunger widout canoe,” said Shanti. 

“ I will take care not to get lost. We took only 
two turns, both to the right, after we left that last 
pond. However, I will cut down two or three of 
the tall rushes at each turn I make, and I cannot 
then well lose my way. But we will agree that if 
I do not come back in about two hours, you fire a 
pistol, and keep on doing so every five minutes. I 
shall be sure to hear it ; for if by any chance I should 
lose my way, I shall not try to find it, but will re- 
main where I am until I hear the pistol.” 

However, little more than an hour had gone when 
Guy returned. We need have no fear about food,” 
he said as he threw six ducks on the ground by the 
side of the fire that the negro had already made. 
“ They are so tame that they scarcely attempted to 
swim away when I paddled toward them, and I shot 
this half-dozen in a few minutes. It is quite evident 
that the Indians seldom come so far into the swamp 


201 


262 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


as this to hunt; for if they did so the birds would 
not be so careless. Why have you left those four 
young trees standing together ? I see that you have 
cut off their tops and stripped off their bark.” 

“Yes, sah. Not nice to sleep wid snakes all ’bout. 
When we have cooked two ob them ducks, we make 
sort of li’r ladder ’bout ten feet long; den we climb 
up and tie four cross-poles between dem trees ; den 
get Oder short poles and lay dem side by side : den 
go down and cut rushes and cober ober dem t’ick. 
Dat make first-rate bed. When we get up dere, we 
pull up de ladder, and we laugh at de snakes.” 

“ I think that is a very good idea. I don’t like 
snakes myself. I suppose you cut off the bark to 
make it more difficult for them to climb up the 
trunks ? ” 

Shanti nodded. 

“ I don’t suppose any of them could climb up ; I 
am sure the rattlesnakes couldn’t, and they are the 
worst. I should hardly think, though, that there 
would be many of them in these swamps. They like 
sunny places.” 

By the time it had become dark the negro had 
completed the platform. Two torches were then 
lighted, and taking a supply of others with them, 
the two adventurers went down to the canoe and 
pushed off again, having first piled up the fire high 
with logs of pitch-pine. 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


263 


‘‘We shall be able to make that out a good way- 
off, Shanti ; and if we cannot see the fire itself, we 
shall certainly see the glow among the trees,’’ Guy 
remarked. 

The fish-spears of which they had obtained pos- 
session had shafts some ten feet in length, a cord 
being attached to the upper end. At the other end 
were two prongs. These were formed of the back- 
bones of some large fish; they were pointed, and 
each had four or five side-bones cut so as to form 
barbs. 

“ I will let you do the spearing, Shanti. I will 
hold the two torches,” Guy proposed. 

‘‘ All right, massa. If dere am fish in de pool, 
you see me bring dem up all right.” 

Shanti stood in the bow, holding a lance in the 
right hand, with a piece of leathern cord twisted 
round his wrist. He had lighted another torch, and 
held it above his head; while Guy, seated a short 
distance behind him, held a torch out on each side 
some two feet above the water. Presently the negro 
said in a whisper, ‘‘ Plenty fish here, Massa Guy. 
Me see some big ones.” 

A moment later he threw the spear some three 
feet in front of the canoe. It went straight down, 
entirely disappearing from sight. 

“ Got him, massa,” the black said, in delight. 

Then Guy saw the use of the thong; for as soon 


264 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


as the negro began to pull this in, it was violently 
agitated. He kept on a steady strain, and presently 
the top of the shaft came to the surface. The black 
gave one more pull, and then seized it. 

“ Look out, Massa Guy! ” he said as he raised it, 
and then with a sidewise sweep threw a great fish 
into the canoe. “ Mind, sah ; he bite.” 

Guy seized a paddle, and brought the handle 
down on the back of the fish’s head. It gave two 
or three more flaps, then there was a quiver, and 
the fish was dead. 

“ What a huge fish ! ” Guy exclaimed. “ He must 
be over thirty pounds.” 

“ ’Bout dat, sah, I guess.” 

“ Well, that will be enough for us.” 

Wait a minute, sah. Me catch two or t’ree li’l’ 
ones. Dere am some dere different shape from dis. 
Perhaps dey am better to eat.” 

In five minutes three fish, each four or five pounds 
in weight, were lying beside the large one in the bot- 
tom of the canoe, and the negro somewhat reluc- 
tantly agreed with Guy that enough had been 
caught. They were soon back at their island, and 
carried the fish up to the fire. 

What are they, do you think ? ” 

Me not know, sah. Me not hab seen fish like 
dese at de plantation.” 

‘‘ I don’t know whether they are sea fish or fresh- 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


265 

water fish/’ Guy said. “ However, we shall soon 
find whether they are good eating ; we will try them 
both.” 

One of the small fish was split open and laid over 
the fire, with a slice, three or four pounds in weight, 
of the large one grilling by its side. It was agreed 
that the small fish was excellent, but the large one 
was of a mitddy flavor. 

After they had been there for a week, Guy said, 
** It is quite time for us to decide what we are going 
to do next, Shanti. Of course, we cannot take up 
our abode here for life, and if we are to go we 
must be off before the wet season sets in. I should 
say that this place is unhealthy enough now, but 
in the time of the rains it must be quite pestilen- 
tial.” 

“Yes, sah; dis bery well two, t’ree weeks, but 
get bery tired ob it abterwards. Big animals in all 
de creeks, and we hab seen some mons’rous big 
snakes. Me quite ready to go.” 

“ But we can’t go without preparations. The 
first thing to do is to lay in a supply of food We 
have been killing only enough for each day’s con- 
sumption; now we must lay in a store of fish and 
birds.” 

“ But how are we to kep dem, sah ? Dis water 
bad to drink, and if we hab not plenty ob fish to eat, 
and can go wid bery li’l’ water, we soon be in bad 


266 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


way; de water not salt 'nough to salt t’ings to make 
dem keep.” 

“No; but we can smoke them. We have plenty 
of pine wood, and that and a little of the pitch-pine 
would soon smoke both the birds and the fish ; and I 
should say that they would keep any length of time.” 

“ Dat great idea, Massa Guy. Dat do de trick. 
We soon get supply.” 

During the next week they caught as many fish 
and shot as many birds as they thought the canoe 
would be able to carry. The fire was kept very low 
during the day, as a column of smoke would show 
the natives in what part of the swamp they were 
hidden; but at night they threw on chips of pitch- 
pine and other wood, making a dense smoke that 
penetrated fish and fowl in a very short time. It 
was true that they tasted somewhat strongly of pitch ; 
but this was a minor matter, and they were well 
satisfied when the task was done, and they had some 
three hundred pounds of dried fish and a hundred 
and fifty ducks of various kinds. During the month 
that they had been in the swamp, vegetation had 
made great progress, and they came upon large 
quantities of gourds of different kinds, and other 
semi-tropical productions. These were gathered 
and stored, the gourds being emptied of their con- 
tents and scraped. Many were very large, and 
would hold a gallon of water. 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


267 


But where am de water to come from, Massa 
Guy ? the negro asked when Guy told him to cut 
plugs of soft wood to act as corks. “ As long as we 
hab plenty fresh fish, we get on bery well ; but wid 
smoked fish we get bery t’irsty, and we go mad if 
we drink dis water.” 

I quite see that,” Guy said. “We must have 
fresh water. My idea is that we should keep north 
through these channels till we are at the edge of the 
swamp; then we will paddle along close under the 
bushes till we get to within four or five miles of the 
falls. At night we will paddle up till, on rowing 
out, we find that the current is strong. Of course 
the current is formed by the water of the river com- 
ing over the falls, and probably it runs some distance 
before it gets mixed with the brackish water of the 
sound; and directly we find the water is sweet, we 
have but to fill our gourds, put in the stoppers, and 
row down with the stream.” 

The negro looked at Guy with beaming admira- 
tion. “ Dat am splendid, massa. How you t’ink 
ob all dese t’ings is more dan me can say. Shanti 
neber t’ink ob such t’ings, neber t’ink ob smoking 
food, neber t’ink ob getting water in dat way. He 
just poor foolish fellow, good only to paddle boat 
and chop wood.” 

“ Nonsense, Shanti. You don’t think of things 
because you leave it to me to do so. Why, what 


268 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


should I have done without you? I should have 
been killed that night when we left the plantation. 
You have done all the really hard work since we 
came here. You are twice as strong as I am; you 
can turn your hand to almost anything. And if I 
think of things a little quicker than you do, it is be- 
cause I have been more accustomed to think, and 
have heard from my father many stories of adven- 
ture, telling how men managed in straits something 
like our own.^* 

Some twenty large gourds were prepared. The 
negro here was able to give useful advice, telling 
Guy that in his country they prepared gourds for 
holding water by filling them with sand or dry earth, 
which prevented them from shrinking and cracking. 
As the two fugitives had no sand, a bank of earth 
was made up round the fire, and this, when thor- 
oughly dry, was pounded and poured into the gourds. 
By the time these were in condition to be used all 
was in readiness for a start. 

It was with deepest satisfaction that, one morning 
at daybreak, they took their places in the canoe, and 
left the spot that had been their home for some 
weeks. It took them all day to find their way out 
of the swamp, so intricate were the passages. They 
were obliged to go slowly and watchfully, for some 
parts were so infested with snakes that they were 
forced to turn back. 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 269 

At all times they went with the greatest caution, 
keeping their eyes fixed upon the boughs above, and 
paddling with their arms ready at hand. Many of 
the creeks abounded with caymans, or alligators ; but 
although some of these creatures swam after the 
canoe for a time, spitefully snapping their jaws, they 
did not attempt an attack. It was with a feeling of 
deep relief that, an hour before sunset, they issued 
out into the broad water of the sound. Their first 
action was to take a long drink of water. In ad^ 
dition to the Roanoke, Albemarle Sound receives the 
waters of other rivers, and these greatly modify the 
saltness of the sea-water, of which a comparatively 
small amount makes its way through openings be- 
tween the long barrier of sand-hills. Guy and 
Shanti watched until dark without seeing a single 
canoe pass. 

I suppose they do not come down so far as this 
to fish,” Guy said. “ We must be thirty or forty 
miles from the village at the foot of the falls. It 
may be, too, that our encounter with that canoe has 
frightened them. The whole thing must have been 
a mystery to them, and the account given of our ap- 
pearance by the man whom, I have no doubt, they 
picked up must have seemed so strange that, super- 
stitious as they are, they may since then have been 
afraid to venture far away from their village. I 
hope it may be so, and in that case we may be able 


270 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


to get our fresh water without a risk of meeting 
with them.” 

Before starting they slept for four or five hours, 
;and then paddled along at the edge of the swamp 
until dawn, by which time they judged that they 
were within five or six miles of the head of the 
sound. Then they hid in among the bushes, and 
watched by turns; but as no canoe appeared on the 
water, they concluded that Guy’s supposition was 
correct, and that the Indians were still under the 
influence of superstitious fears. They therefore 
started again, as soon as it was dark, with some con- 
fidence; and after paddling for another half-hour, 
they rowed out, for some distance, and finding the 
water perfectly fresh, filled all their gourds, and then 
moved off, seaward this time, following the northern 
shore, where the ground was for the most part much 
higher than that on the southern side. Before 
morning they rowed some distance up one of the 
rivers falling into the sound, and on the following 
day continued their easterly course until they saw 
ahead of them the sand-banks of the seaward ridge. 




CHAPTER X 


‘‘Thank Heaven/' Guy said earnestly as they 
stepped ashore on the sand-dunes, “ we have now 
come safely through three of the dangers we had to 
face. First there was the escape from the plantation 
and the journeys on the rivers; then there was the 
passage through the Indian country down to the 
foot of the falls ; and third we have got through the 
dangers of the swamp. Now we are free from all 
fear of the Indians, with a good store of provisions, 
water enough to last us for some time, and means 
of living here as long as we choose ; for the channel 
we see running north between the sand-hills and the 
land is not more than two or three miles wide, and 
it seems to me that there are some islands in it 
farther up. We ought to be able to spear fish 
enough to keep us alive, though of course there 
cannot be as many here as there were in that pool 
in the swamp. As for water, we passed, on our way 
down, the mouths of at least half a dozen rivers, 
and we may expect to find some streams running into 
this channel ; and, at the worst, it would not be more 
than a couple of hours' row from here to the last 
we passed. I can see there are numbers of birds 


272 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


flying about, and we may find eggs. Altogether 
we are a thousand times better off than shipwrecked 
mariners would be if cast upon a shore like this.” 

Shall we take t’ings out ob de canoe, Massa 
Guy? Him too heby to drag up now.” 

“No; you can just pull the bow up on to the sand, 
stick one of the spears in a few feet higher, and tie 
the head-rope to it so as to prevent any possibility 
of its drifting away, and then we will explore.” 

They mounted the sand-hills, and on getting to 
the top, stood looking with delight at the waves 
breaking in long lines of foam at their feet. Guy 
had never seen the sea before, or at least not to his 
knowledge, as he was but a year old when he had 
been brought out ; and the sight of the great expanse 
of water, with the heaving waves and breaking surf, 
filled him with pleasure. It was not new to the 
negro, but he too felt gladness at the sight. It re- 
called to him the days when he, with his boy com- 
panions, had swum out on pieces of wood through 
the far heavier surf that beat on his native coast. 
He said as much to Guy. 

“ I can quite understand your feelings, Shanti, 
and doubtless you would like to be there again.” 

The negro shook his head. “ No, sah ; no. 
Always war dar ; kill people and make slabes of dem. 
Me no want to go back. Mos’ ob my people killed. 
Me bery happy here. Had two years bery good 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


273 


time at plantation. Massa bery good to me. Me 
want nothing better, stay always wid Massa Guy. 
Help him kill de bad red men who burnt down 
house and kill eberyone but Massa Guy and 
Shanti.’' 

“ I shall be glad to take a share in punishing them 
when the time comes, as I have no doubt it will, 
Shanti. I hope that after that there will be no more 
trouble with the Indians. And you may be sure that 
as long as I live you will be my friend and com- 
panion. You know that you are already free, and 
though you call me ‘ Massa,' we have been, ever 
since you saved my life, real friends, and shall be 
closer still, now we have gone through all these 
dangers together. Of course I don't know what I 
shall do yet. When we have punished the Indians 
it will be difficult to get hands to till the plantation, 
unless by some good fortune Jamestown has escaped 
destruction. My father had moneys placed with 
Master Hopwood, the chief merchant there, who 
was the agent that sent his tobacco home for sale, 
and bought such goods for him as he required. He 
is an honorable man, and will, I am sure, account 
to me for the moneys he has in his hands, if he has 
escaped from the massacre. No doubt the company 
will send out many more colonists, and I shall be 
able to hire men for our work ; but if, as I fear, all 
the whites have been killed, I have no idea what we 


274 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


shall do, and maybe we shall have to begin afresh 
on some small grant of land near the town, where we 
shall be safer from trouble than when so far off as 
we were before. Or perhaps, as I speak the Indian 
language, and none of the newcomers will be able 
to do so, I may be able to obtain a post with some 
trader and do well in that way. At any rate, what- 
ever I may do in the future, Shanti, you may rely 
upon my promise that you and I will always be 
together.” 

Wandering along the sand-hills, they found that 
clumps of bushes grew in the sheltered hollows, and 
that on the western side of the spit there were many 
logs and branches that had been brought down by 
the rivers into the sound, and driven on to the sands 
by winds from the hills, or left there in times of 
flood. 

“ We shall have no difficulty as to fires,” Guy 
said; “ and if we have to stay here through the rainy 
season, I should think that we might manage to erect 
a hut. Many of these logs still have their bark on, 
and we could roof it with that; and even if the rain 
came through, we might get the canoe inside, turn 
it over, and sleep dry under it. However, in the first 
place, we must go up as far as this channel behind 
the island extends. I believe that it runs up almost 
as far as Cape Henry, the entrance to Chesapeake 
Bay. I know, because my father said that even 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


27s 


the best navigators could not reckon upon striking* 
the mouth of the bay, and that they generally pre- 
ferred making the land to the south, rather than to 
the north, because the sand-hills ran in a straight 
line and there were no dangers beyond them, whereas 
beyond Cape Charles, on the north side of the en- 
trance, there were many islands upon which ihty 
might be cast; and he said that the sand-hills with 
their inner water extended to within some fifteen or 
twenty miles of Cape Henry. Therefore, from that 
spot we might well make out any ship arriving from? 
England. ’’ 

Having no occasion for haste, they took matters 
quietly. As the canoe might have been made out 
from the opposite shore if they rowed along by day- 
light, they always laid her up during that time,, 
moving only at night. They paddled for two or 
three miles, spending the day in exploring the shore 
from their last halting-place, encamping always in 
hollows where the light of a fire would not be visible 
from the mainland. They varied their diet of dried 
fowl and fish by shooting or knocking down the 
birds that abounded in great numbers on the sand- 
hills. These creatures were so unaccustomed to 
the sight of man that they would allow Guy and 
Shanti to approach so close that they could almost 
touch them with their hands. 

Occasionally a nest of eggs was found, but the 


276 REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


enormous number of broken shells which lay in every 
depression showed that the breeding season was 
over, and the eggs they found were doubtless a sec- 
ond lay. The flesh of the wild geese and ducks was 
very palatable, but that of most of the sea-fowl they 
found so rank as to be uneatable. 

At the end of a week, making out an opening in 
the mainland opposite, they rowed across at night, 
and found, as they expected, a small stream, and 
from it refilled their gourds. They came upon two 
or three huts among the sand-hills. These had evi- 
dently been erected by fishermen, and showed signs 
of having been deserted in some haste, as in one 
they found some lines and hooks, and in another two 
iron pots and a coil of rope. The find of the lines 
was very valuable to them. They were afraid to 
fish by torchlight, lest the Indians, making out the 
light from the mainland, might come across to see 
who were there ; but with lines they would be able 
to fish at night without fear of discovery, and thus 
obtain an ample supply for their sustenance. 

They were glad to be able to keep their store of 
smoked food for an emergency, for the flavor 
of tar, not unpleasant at first, palled upon them, 
although they were able to lessen it to some extent 
by soaking the fish and birds in water for some 
hours before cooking them. The pots also came in 
useful, as they enabled them to vary their diet bv 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 277 

boiling instead of having always to grill their 
food. 

“ I would not have believed, if I had not tried 
it,” Guy said one day, “ that one could do without 
bread; and yet we keep in very good health, and 
certainly have not lost strength. However, I would 
give a good deal, if I had it to give, for enough 
bread for one day’s eating, without touching fish or 
fowl. I know that the redskins, when hunting, live 
entirely upon meat; but I would not have believed 
that I could go two months without bread or meal.” 

It was three weeks after their landing on the sand- 
hills before they reached the northern extremity of 
the sound. After ascertaining that a small stream 
ran into it here, they went back some three miles, 
and established themselves in a deserted hut on the 
seaward face of the sand-hills. Three skeletons lay 
outside, showing that the fishermen here had been 
taken by surprise and killed on the night of the 
massacre. The hut had been completely stripped of 
every movable. 

‘‘ The Indians are hardly likely to come back 
again,” Guy said. They cannot dream that there 
are any white men here. We must be careful never 
to light a fire during the day, for none of this wood 
is dry enough to burn without smoke. We will 
bring the canoe across and hide it in that clump of 
busihes a hundred yards away. We will take out 


278 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


most of the food that remains, leaving always three 
or four gourds of water and enough dried fowl for 
three or four days, so that we can lift the canoe and 
run it down at once in case of alarm. During the 
day we will never cross the line of sand-hills; for 
the channel is but a mile wide, and the Indians could 
see us easily from the other side. One of us will 
always keep watch night and day, and we will walk 
about as little as possible, so as to avoid leaving foot- 
prints.” 

A month passed; and then, soon after daybreak 
one morning, Shanti, who had been on guard, ran 
into the hut. 

“ A ship, Massa Guy ! A ship is coming along! ” 

Guy leaped up, and saw to the south a ship making 
its way up, about a mile from the shore. Seizing 
their arms, which were their only possessions, they 
ran to the canoe, launched it, and rowed out and met 
the vessel as she came nearly opposite to the hut. 
Deeply tanned with the sun as he was, and dressed 
in buckskin, Guy was at first taken to be a redskin, 
and to his surprise, an arquebus was fired when he 
was a hundred yards from the ship, and the ball 
struck the water close alongside. He stood up in 
the canoe. 

“ What are you doing? ” he shouted. “ I am an 
Englishman.” 

Then he sat down again, and they paddled to the 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


279 

ship’s side. It was crowded with men, and a babel 
of questions rose as he stepped on to the deck. 

What is your news ? ” ‘‘ Have the Indians at- 
tacked again? ” “ Is all well? ” 

I can tell you nothing,” he said when at last he 
obtained a hearing. “ I escaped t hree month s ago 
from my father’s plantation, which was attacked by 
Indians. After many dangers we arrived here, and 
have been hiding, hoping that some ship would come 
along. I know nothing of what has happened in 
the colony. I heard that the Indians intended to 
massacre all the whites that night, but whether they 
succeeded I know not.” 

“We have heard of that bad business,” a man, 
who was evidently the captain of the ship, said. 
“ The news came that all the outlying settlements 
had been destroped and the people murdered — four 
or five hundred of them ; but the governor got news 
a few hours before, and at Jamestown and other 
places where they had time to receive warning the 
Indians were beaten off. A vessel sailed the next 
day for England with the news, and the company at 
once prepared to send a strong force over to the 
assistance of the colonists. This is the first ship 
that sailed, but three or four others are to follow 
us.” 

“ That is joyful news indeed ! ” Guy exclaimed. 
“ I feared that their treachery had everywhere been 


28 o 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


successful, and that I and this faithful companion 
alone had escaped with our lives. My name is 
Neville; my father and all the others with him 
perished after a desperate defense of his house.” 

“ I have heard of Mr. Neville,” the captain said, 
having taken over many bales of tobacco raised by 
him. I have been trading across the seas for the 
last ten years. I heard of him as a most honor- 
able gentleman, and as one who lived on excellent 
terms with the natives.” 

It was so,” Guy replied ; and little did we 
think that those whb had always been so well treated 
by him would so treacherously fall upon us ! ” 

Guy found that there were upwards of a hun- 
dred and fifty men, all well armed, on board the 
ship. He was hospitably entertained in the cabin 
allotted to those of good position, and presently gave 
them a sketch of his adventures, and of the defense 
of his father’s house. 

“ It was,” he said, “ the largest plantation in the 
colony, for there were nigh sixty souls living there, 
the wives and children of the fifteen men who came 
out with my father when the colony was first estab- 
lished. He had selected the land as being the most 
fertile that he could find, and as it was on a river, 
the expense of carriage was small; and the natives 
all appeared so friendly that he did not consider that 
there was any danger to be feared from them, though 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


281 


he took the precaution of building a house that 
could, he thought, resist any attack that might be 
made upon it.’' 

Four hours later the ship rounded Cape Henry, 
and the next day dropped anchor off Jamestown. 
The re-enforcement was most joyfully received, 
although all fear of attack by the Indians had sub- 
sided. Several expeditions had been sent against 
them, every man in the colony being for the time 
converted into a soldier. Several battles had taken 
place, in which the Indians had been signally de- 
feated, being unable to stand against the firearms of 
the whites. Their principal villages had been 
burned, and great numebrs of the redskins killed. 

On landing, Guy went at once to the house of 
Mr. Hopwood, who received him as one from the 
dead. 

I have been troubled greatly,” he said as to 
what to do with the moneys in my hands, and re- 
solved that I would write home, asking if any rela- 
tions of Mr. Neville could be found. I knew that 
he came from Cumberland, and thought it likely that 
some of his kin might still be living there. I have 
six hundred pounds of his money in my hands.” 

Six hundred pounds in those days was a large 
sum, and Guy felt that he should be able with it to 
work the plantation as before, as soon as hands could 
be obtained. He at once enrolled himself and 


282 


REDSKINS AND COLONISTS 


Shanti among the list of those capable of bearing 
arms, and, from his knowledge of the Indian 
language and Indian mode of warfare, was ap- 
pointed an officer in one of the companies. In three 
weeks the other ships arrived, and having now a 
force sufficient to cope with any number of redskins, 
the war began in earnest, and in six months the In- 
dians in Virginia were either exterminated or forced 
to leave the colony and take refuge among other 
tribes. 

Emigrants poured in apace, and when hostilities 
were concluded Guy was able to hire fifteen men to 
work on the plantation. A new house was built, a 
quarter of a mile from the ruins of the old one. No 
remains of any of the defenders were found ; for the 
logs of which the house was composed had burned 
for days, forming a funeral pyre for the brave de- 
fenders. The skeletons of those who had fallen in 
the village were carefully collected and buried. 
Soon after he had established himself, a message 
arrived from his friend Ponta, saying that he had 
not taken part in the massacre, being, indeed, held 
prisoner until the rest of the Indians had set out ; and 
that he had since then been living among the Tusca- 
roras, where he now was. 

Guy had already related to the governor how he 
had been warned by the young chief, and that it was 
his message that had been sent by Guy’s father a 


THE SOLE SURVIVORS 


283 


week before the massacre. He had, therefore no 
difficulty in obtaining from the governor a paper 
testifying that the young chief had throughout been 
a friend of the whites, and was to be allowed to re- 
turn and dwell in the colony in peace. Of this priv- 
ilege, however, Ponta did not avail himself, being 
adopted into the Tu^carora tribe; but he paid oc- 
casional visits to the plantation, and was always 
warmly welcomed. 

Six years later Guy married the daughter of one 
of the chief officers in the colony. The plantation 
flourished. Many ships had arrived with negroes, 
and some fifty of these wer^ from time to time pur- 
chased by Guy, and they had reason to congratulate 
themselves on having fallen into the hands of the 
kindest and best master in the colony. 


THE END 







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